


No Fences

by Orange17



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst without a happy ending, Cougar!Waverly (sort of), F/F, Farmhand!Nicole, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange17/pseuds/Orange17
Summary: The summer after Nicole graduated from high school, a simple summer job, working as a farmhand for a newly widowed woman turned into more than Nicole bargained for.Ten years passed before Nicole returned to the farm, wondering if the spark from a fleeting summer would still be there, and hoping she could repair everything that she left behind.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 264
Kudos: 502





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely a PROCEED WITH CAUTION type of fic. I’ve left the tags here light and I totally understand if someone wants to “nope” out of it before we get into the heavy stuff. If this gives any readers any pause, I totally understand. This fic is complete, so once I finish posting week-to-week, I’ll likely update the tags so anyone can choose for themselves if this is something they want to get into or not. 
> 
> Seriousness aside. A whole start of a pandemic ago, a conversation about 90s county, Garth Brooks songs, and a mention of "That Summer" were apparently all it took to spark the idea for this fic. My brain went down this whole rabbit hole and now… 6 months later here we are. The fic title was fittingly stolen from a Garth Brooks album. 
> 
> Thanks to my super patient beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for putting up with a whole lot of overthinking on this one (probably like x3 as much as usual) and the accompanying Ford Bronco spam from me.

_— 2004 —_

Only two hours after she eased her truck off the highway and onto increasingly more secluded backroads, Nicole began to question why she’d gone so far out of her way just to pass through her hometown. There was something sentimental in this whole journey, and it only seemed right to detour through here and take the same route she had taken the first time. 

She drove through the heart of town, fingers twitching on the wheel as she fought the urge to turn down the street to her childhood home. But what good would it do to see if her last name was still on the mailbox? Or if the paint color had changed? Or if her dad’s old Suburban was still in the driveway? Or would the spot be empty with only the stain from the oil that had slowly dripped underneath? 

She frowned at the image of a rusted-out truck she hadn’t thought about in years. _She_ was wrong for scrimping and saving every penny to get her Bronco, money that could’ve helped the family. Nevermind that he sunk money into an endless number of projects that never got done. 

But before she could indulge her curiosity, the street sign for Maple Street was in her rearview mirror. She shook her head, surprised by the depth of the nostalgia and old feelings coursing through her. 

Instead, she steered her truck down some different memory lanes: driving around her high school, eyeing the cars, much newer than her own, that filled the student lot, and then to the rear parking lot of Pressman’s 24-hour Laundromat. She couldn’t bring herself to stop, slowing as she approached the spot where she had usually parked. Her eyes roamed from the storefront to her piled up belongings at the back of her 1986 Bronco. In spite of the ten years that had passed, some things would never change. 

Merely the sight of that cracked grey asphalt bordered by two white lines caused Nicole’s throat to tighten, as a wave of fear she hadn’t felt since she was 17 washed over her. Fear for her safety. Fear of her biggest secrets coming to light. But most of all, fear of being found and returned to her parents. 

Nicole pushed down on the gas pedal, the engine of her old truck whining for a split second before it revved, the momentum pushing her back into the weathered velour seat. Without conscious direction, her left arm, which had been lazily hanging out the window, darted inside, hand wrapping around the leather steering wheel. She left her old anxieties behind in smoking rubber on the road. 

Only once she knew her old “home” was well behind her, not even visible in her mirrors, did she ease up, allowing her truck to slow to a pace less likely to draw the attention of red and blue lights. Her arm slid back out the window, the breeze cooling the warm sweat that had built at the crease of her elbow. 

The gas station on the outskirts of town came into view, an upside-down “2” filling in for a “7” on the price board for diesel. After a glance at her gauges and another surprising wave of nostalgic longing, she flicked on her turn signal, easing her truck into the parking lot. She pulled up to a pump and shifted into park. 

Nicole grabbed her wallet from the cup holder before climbing out of her truck, the muscles in her legs and back aching in protest after so much time in the driver’s seat. 

Everything looked just as she remembered it, from the faded paint on the awning above the pumps to the flickering neon “GAS” sign twirling lazily over the convenience store and diner. 

But it was the graffitied payphone that caught her eye, and her feet automatically carried her towards it. She spared a glance over her shoulder, making sure there were other empty pumps so she wouldn’t hog one. _If_ she made a phone call. 

The resident at her destination didn’t have the faintest idea she was en route, and that seemed awfully rude in hindsight, but wouldn’t it bring it all full circle if Nicole called from here to let her know that she was on her way? 

She pulled a coin from her pocket and had it halfway into the slot

 _You’re going, Nicole! This isn’t up for debate. I’m_ **_not_ ** _having this conversation again._

At the ghost that echoed in her ears, Nicole abruptly pulled her hand away and turned on her heel. 

Because if she had come all this way for nothing, she didn’t think she could bear it. Kicking at the dirt, she shook her head and backed away.

No, Nicole had to at least hear that “no” with her own ears. Not over the static of the call. Not without seeing it in the lines on her face. 

The bell above the door rang as Nicole pushed it open and made a beeline to the counter, a bill already in hand to pay for her gas. She forced herself to remain focused on the cashier and the task at hand, no more distractions, as she handed over her cash before storming back to her truck. 

_— 1994 —_

Nicole paced down the aisles of the gas station, hands deep in the pockets of her jeans. She glanced out the window, internally cursing the trucker hogging the one pay phone before absentmindedly scanning the assortment of gum and mints in front of her. She picked up a roll of Lifesavers, rolling it between her restless fingers. 

The newspaper clipping in her back pocket seemed to have absorbed her body heat, burning through the denim as an ever-present reminder of what she was waiting for. 

At last the trucker hung up and strolled back to his idling big rig. Nicole dropped the mints back into their box and hurried outside, the bell above the door chiming cheerily to announce her departure. 

But Nicole barely registered it, instead searching her pockets, first for a coin, then to gently pry the paper from her pocket, careful not to tear it. After a deep breath and a glance at the phone number, she shoved the coin into the slot before she could lose her nerve and dialed, double checking the smudged ink on the newprint, already staining her shaking, sweaty hands, to make sure she dialed the correct combination of numbers. 

It took two rings and one slow bead of sweat dripping down Nicole’s ear until she heard the static of the other end of the line being picked up. 

“Hello.” 

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Nicole began, voice shaking away the lower note she had tried to force into her voice; the many times she had rehearsed this speech quickly became a wasted effort. “I’m looking for a W. Earp?” 

“Speaking,” the woman responded breezily, but with a hint of intrigue in her tone. “Are you calling about the ad?” 

“Yes, ma’am. My name’s Nicole, Nicole Haught.” 

\--

Nicole learned the “W” stood for Waverly. And over the course of four more coins worth of easy-flowing conversation, Waverly outlined her property and the work she was looking for between now and mid-August. It was fairly straightforward: after the sudden passing of her husband, Waverly just needed a hand to help her keep the farm running smoothly through summer, until her sister and brother-in-law could make their way there to help Waverly long-term.

With the odd parts of most of her youth spent lending a hand on her aunt and uncle’s farm, being shipped off whenever those extra hands were needed, regardless of their size and the time of school year, Nicole felt she could handle everything. But there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she was missing something, since she’d be gone before Waverly’s wheat was ready for harvest, particularly when Waverly suddenly asked how soon she could start. 

“I could be there in a week,” Nicole answered, leaving out that she needed to finish up her last few days of school before she could hit the road. “But…” 

Nicole trailed off, unsure how to ask the questions that lingered in her consciousness. 

“Ma’am, would it be too forward of me to ask a question? About your advertisement?” 

“Not at all,” Waverly replied immediately. 

“I’ve seen this ad, every week for...well an awful while. Is there...is there a reason you haven’t found someone suitable sooner?” 

“A little bit.” Waverly sighed. “I’ve spoken with many capable candidates, but...it’s important to me to find the right fit. And, as we discussed, whomever I employ will have to live with me in the house...and I wanted to make sure it was someone I was... _comfortable_ with. I’ve been holding out because I’m an excellent judge of character...and I’m glad I waited. I’ve got a good feeling about you.” 

Nicole flushed at the warmth in the words from a woman she didn’t even know. She tipped down the brim of her hat, hiding the smile on her lips. 

“I won’t let you down, Waverly. Thank you. Thank you for this opportunity.” 

“No need to thank me. I’ll see you in a week, Nicole.” 

The line clicked dead before Nicole could say good-bye. 

\--

Hot, dry air swirled around Nicole as she eased off the gas pedal and rattled down the dirt driveway, a small one-story house with a wraparound porch coming into view. With dust kicking up in her rearview mirror, she forced her stiff muscles to move, shifting herself upright in her seat, eager to make a good impression on her new employer, when she was startled by the front door opening abruptly. 

A brunette woman in a flowing dress stomped out of the house, sawed off shotgun in hand and aimed in her direction. 

Nicole slammed on the brakes, hand flailing for the gearshift to downshift. Her body jerked forward from the abrupt change in speed. 

She briefly worried that she had made a wrong turn, ended up on the wrong farm; the “no trespassing” sign, framed in barbed wire she had passed suddenly seemed a lot more ominous in her mind’s eye. Instinct told her to raise her hands, but the truck skidded wildly in the loose, dry dirt driveway as her brakes locked up. Nicole hauled desperately at the steering wheel until the truck fully stopped, rocking in a cloud of dust. 

Though she was still 30 yards from the house, the screen door smacking against its frame was audible even over the rumble of the engine. 

Nicole’s hands immediately rose from the wheel as if the leather burned her skin, as she finally locked eyes with the woman on the porch. The gun lowered slowly, the woman seeming to realize that Nicole wasn’t a threat. 

With a sheepish smile, the woman beckoned Nicole forward. 

Heart racing, Nicole lowered her hands, one back to the wheel, the other to the gear shift. 

Her pulse only seemed to pick up as she eased her truck closer to the porch. 

_She’s awfully pretty,_ Nicole thought, pulling the park brake and noting the woman’s bare feet. And that those feet were moving. 

“I’m so sorry, Nicole!” the woman exclaimed, slinging the shotgun over her shoulder and hurrying off the porch, jumping from the steps down onto the driveway. “I thought it’d be dark til you got here.” 

With a deep breath, Nicole reached for her hat on the passenger seat. 

“You get a lot of unfriendly faces out here, Mrs. Earp?” Nicole called through the open window as she eased the door open, rusty hinges groaning, and stepped out, making sure to hug close to the truck. 

Waverly grimaced, and Nicole’s heart skipped a beat, worried at the response. As Waverly pushed her hair out of her face, the light caught just right to highlight a few distinct gray strands that stood out in contrast to Waverly’s light brunette hair. 

“None of this _Mrs._ nonsense, Nicole. Earp is my maiden name anyway. Just call me Waverly, please.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Nicole nodded, tipping her old straw hat before placing it on her head. 

—only to freeze, hand still curled around the front of her hat, at the glare Waverly sent her way. 

“Yes...Waverly?” Nicole stammered, tipping her hat once more for good measure. 

“That’s better,” Waverly beamed, her appreciation warming Nicole. “I’ve got to check on dinner, but grab your stuff. I’ll meet you inside and give you a tour.” 

With a nod at the door and another smile, Waverly turned, hopping back up the stairs and back inside.

Nicole watched her go until the shotgun slipped from sight, absentmindedly adjusting her hat with a huff. 

_She never did answer my question._

Expelling her unease with a deep breath, Nicole turned back to her truck. 

It only took one trip for Nicole to grab all her worldly belongings, her duffel bag, jacket, and backpack, hastily shoving the greasy paper bag from her lunch into the front pocket. She had already shut the door to her truck before a thought occurred to her. 

Dropping her bag onto the dirt, she opened the door again and reached across the seat, fumbling for the latch to the glove compartment. She grabbed her pistol and tucked it into her waistband before slamming the door shut again. 

Nicole hurried up the stairs and onto the porch, briefly pausing to count the rotted boards that needed replaced before continuing inside. She blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim entry and spied a bench to her left, with an assortment of shoes scattered around it. Setting her belongings on the floor, she sat on the bench and pried off her boots, sitting them neatly among the collection. 

Waverly breezed through the open door frame that presumably led to the rest of the house, picking up Nicole’s jacket and plucking Nicole’s hat off her head and hanging both on an empty hook.

“Are you a cowboy or something, with this hat?” Waverly teased. 

Getting to her feet, Nicole ran a hand through her likely disheveled hair, hoping to push down the many strands she knew were probably sticking up in all directions. She fought a grimace, hoping the three-day build up of grease and oil wasn’t as obvious as it felt on her fingers. 

Nicole answered, “Just tryin' to make an honest living.” 

“Is this everything?” Waverly asked, picking up Nicole’s bag for her. 

“Yes, ma—I mean, Waverly. I can take it though.” 

“I’ve got it,” Waverly smiled kindly, hefting the bag higher on the shoulder. “Let me show you your room first.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nicole hammered the last nail into place before stepping onto the new riser, bouncing on the balls of her feet to test that it was secure. 

“I didn’t ask you to fix those.” 

Nicole jumped and swore before hastily turning toward the voice. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you should wear a bell?” Nicole called, hand wiping at the sweat that painted the sore skin on the back of her neck. 

It was Nicole’s second day of work at the farm and, with Waverly easily rising before her both mornings, Nicole was still stubbornly out in the hot sun, carrying on hours after Waverly called it a day. A desire to show her new employer she was anything but lazy loomed ever-present in the back of Nicole’s mind. 

The previous morning the sky had still been dark, only the barest hint of light visible across the horizon, when Nicole shuffled through the house in search of coffee. She shrugged into her jacket to fight off the chill that hung in the air. She stopped abruptly when she spied a note on the dining room table with her name at the top, reading that Waverly was already outside and working. 

Even with a restless, nervous night of sleep and an eagerness to make a good first impression keeping Nicole awake, Waverly still managed to rise well before her. Not only was her boss up and working, but she had made coffee and a full breakfast, a portion for Nicole left warming in the oven. Based on the dish and mug in the sink, Waverly appeared to already have eaten. 

Both yesterday and today, in spite of Waverly’s cheery handwritten letter telling her to take her time, Nicole wolfed down the eggs and bacon left for her. Her tongue was still tender from two consecutive mornings of hastily gulping down scalding coffee before hurrying outside. 

Now, Waverly leaned against the doorframe in the shade of the roof, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. 

Unsure if she was in trouble or not, Nicole added, “No, you didn’t, but...“ she trailed off, mind’s eye picturing the solid layer of dust atop the tarp-covered lumber, _PORCH_ scribbled on the end of each board. She cleared her throat, choosing not to mention what she saw, and swallowing the question of whether this was a project Waverly’s husband intended to complete before he died. “But they looked unsafe and if it’s one more thing off your to-do list, I’m happy to do it, Waverly. I’ll tackle those rotted floorboards next.” 

Waverly nodded, dish towel twisting in her hands. “Come on in, get cleaned up for dinner. Before you burn as red as your hair.” 

“Yeah, in a minute,” Nicole called back, looking back down to double-check her work. 

With a little nod to herself, content with the end result, she looked up to see Waverly still in the doorframe. 

“You need somethin’?” Nicole called, pushing the brim of her hat up, hoping to better see Waverly through the shadows. 

It could’ve been a trick of the light, or _probably was_ , Nicole thought, given the time of day, or maybe it was just the heat getting to her. But she could’ve sworn Waverly’s mouth opened wordlessly before Waverly vigorously shook her head, turning on a heel to head further into the house. 

\-- 

Waverly was...something. 

Something or someone unlike anyone Nicole had ever worked with before in all her odd jobs. For her first few days on the farm, Nicole was certain Waverly didn’t sleep. She rose earlier than anyone Nicole had ever met and made full breakfasts well before dawn. She rarely paused for a break longer than to sip coffee from the thermos that was never far from grasp. Even though Waverly always abruptly called it a day at 3 p.m. on the dot, to go inside and clean up, her workday still wasn’t done. She would then prepare them both a full dinner and clean up, leaving the kitchen spotless for the next day. 

Only in the evening did Waverly’s body seem to finally rest; but her mind didn’t. Once the dishes were washed and put away, she’d either hole up at her desk, hunched over stationary paper while she wrote long letters, or curled up with a book, her eyes rapidly moving across the page. Once or twice, Nicole came in from the porch, after watching the sunset, to find Waverly fast asleep in her armchair, book fallen from her grasp and onto the floor. Nicole was surprised it didn’t happen more often, since Waverly often stayed awake, usually reading, long after Nicole went to bed. 

Nicole couldn’t help but wonder when this routine, that Waverly followed as steadily and consistently as the second hand ticking around the face of a clock, began. Would the energy it took to keep moving eventually fade before it died all together, like a battery? Was this a thread of her life with her husband that she desperately clung to? Or had it started up as a coping mechanism, for dealing with his sudden passing and the work of two falling on solely her shoulders? Or was this just...always how she was? 

Waverly moved from hard-working farmhand to domestic housewife as effortlessly as she changed from fertilizer-stained cut-off overalls and rubber boots into cotton dresses after washing up for the day. More than once, after watching Waverly move 50-pound bags of feed with ease, or enjoying another dinner made only from what the land had provided, Nicole found herself thinking about what a lucky man her husband had been when he was alive. 

\-- 

Nicole jumped at the crack of the screen door frame bouncing closed against the door frame. She turned quickly to find Waverly, sheepishly frozen just outside the entry with a steaming mug in each hand. With a deep breath to calm her racing heart, Nicole settled back into her spot, perched on the wide railing and leaning against a post, supporting the roof above. 

“Sorry,” Waverly winced as Nicole shifted to find her comfortable spot once again. 

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” she smiled. “This is your house after all, slam and bang all the doors you want.” 

Waverly shuffled forward, and Nicole couldn’t understand how she did it barefoot on these weathered warped boards. And briefly wondered how many splinters she had to pull out of her toes. 

“Coffee?” Waverly asked, offering Nicole a speckled mug and drawing Nicole’s attention from the deep red nail polish on Waverly’s toes. 

Nicole took the mug with a murmured “thank you,” and blew on it, knowing the heat in the air would do little to cool the coffee. She was still watching the black liquid ripple across the surface when Waverly continued. 

“Champ used to hate when I did that,” Waverly admitted. 

Nicole looked up to see Waverly fidgeting with her own flowery mug, eyes firmly focused on the front door. 

“Hate when you did what?” 

“Let the door slam closed. Scared him every time,” Waverly chuckled hollowly, still spinning the mug in her hand. “He swore up-and-down that I’d give him a heart attack one day.” 

Unsure what to say, Nicole lifted her mug to her lips, taking a measured sip. 

The warm breeze picked up, carrying Waverly’s long hair into her face. The movement was enough to pull Waverly from wherever ghosts and memories had taken her. With a shake of her head, Waverly turned back to Nicole, a hand pushing her hair out of her face. 

“I came out here with a different apology in mind…” Waverly trailed off. 

“Yeah?” 

“I know I’m not the best company. I feel like I don’t even know how to be around a person anymore.” 

Nicole nodded slowly, understanding Waverly’s words but not comprehending what she meant. She gnawed on her lip before slowly, carefully choosing her words. 

“You’ve been here, by yourself, since your husband passed?” 

Waverly turned to survey the property, her elbows leaning against the railing and fingers curled tightly around her coffee. 

“I have. But…” Waverly shook her head. “No, it doesn’t matter.” 

Waverly took a long swig of her coffee before turning back to Nicole. “You’ve been here almost a week and I know nothing about you.” 

Nicole shrugged, “Not much to tell. But...whatever’s on your mind...it does matter.” 

“Thank you, Nicole.” Waverly smiled, but Nicole couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s save it for another day though.” 

Nicole didn’t trust Waverly’s tone as she looked out over her mug, steam still rising into the darkening sky. “Careful what you say, because I’m one for holdin’ people to their word.” 

“I promise,” Waverly chuckled, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the setting sun. “Now. Your turn.” 

“Aw, but I meant it that there ain’t nothin’ to tell,” Nicole whined, stalling with another sip of coffee. 

“Okay,” Waverly nodded. “Your truck. Start with your truck. There’s gotta be a story behind how you got that.” 

“I stole it,” Nicole snorted. 

Waverly gasped. “You didn’t!” 

“No, I didn’t,” Nicole chuckled. “But I mean it, not much to tell. Worked odd jobs, saved up, now she’s mine.” 

Waverly hummed, not seeming to believe her. “Fine, you’re off the hot seat. _For now_.” 

Waverly turned away, silence falling between them. She only spoke up again once the sun had crept behind the horizon for the night. 

“Thanks for the company,” Waverly smiled. “I’m turning in, you need anything?” 

Nicole shook her head, and Waverly stepped closer, collecting Nicole’s empty mug off the railing while Nicole fought the words she wanted to say before Waverly could turn away. 

“Hey, wait.” 

Waverly did, wordlessly so. 

Nicole swallowed, speaking slowly. “I’m an honest person, Waverly. If you ask me something, I’ll tell ya the truth...but don’t go askin’ questions if you’re not prepared for the answer. Might find out somethin’ you don’t like.” 

Nicole grimaced at how her disclosure finished, before continuing, voice higher than usual as she corrected. “I mean—” 

Waverly shook her head, cutting Nicole off with a sympathetic smile, a softening in her eyes that was unfamiliar to Nicole. “I get it. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’d like to get to know you though.” 

Nicole nodded. “I want to get to know you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been back-and-forth and back again on whether or not to update this week. There’s a whole lot going on in the world that I don’t want to take away from in any way. Reading can be an escape but with the heaviness of everything, where this fic is going might feel like overkill. 
> 
> But. This fic is also done, and I like to stick to my word and not leave anyone hanging. 
> 
> So updated, we are. Enjoy if you choose—if not, I completely understand. Either way, consider spending some time, energy, money: [blacklivesmatters.carrd.co](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)
> 
> A huge thank you as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).

Nicole groaned in relief as she stepped into the cool shade of the house, thankful to be out of the sun that had sapped her of all her energy. She had spent the morning replacing the boards on the porch, sanding them smooth for Waverly’s feet, and paid for her late start all afternoon, roasting through her usual chores under the unyielding sun. 

She toed off her boots, holding onto the wall to remain upright. 

“Hey, some mail came for you,” Waverly called from the kitchen. “I left it on the table in the hallway.”

Sure she was going to see steam billowing up from her socks after being freed from the confines of unbreathable leather and steel toes, Nicole nodded, before remembering Waverly couldn’t see her. 

“Thanks!” 

Nicole shuffled inside, picking a small stack of letters, bound with string, from the table. Even without looking at the return address, she knew from the handwriting on the top what this was. 

As she walked to her bedroom, she untied the neat knot holding the small bundle together. After closing the door behind her, she flipped through the mail, eyeing two letters from her cousin, one from a friend, and lastly one with an official looking red seal. 

Tossing the rest onto her bed, she kept the top one, slitting the envelope and unfolding the letter. 

_ Nicole,  _

_ I’m still mad that you bailed before graduation and, more importantly, my PARTY. OF COURSE, we had a great time. But it wasn’t the same without you there.  _

_ I held off a few days before sending these—consider it a small part of your punishment. The rest I’ll have to deliver in-person. Please wait in painful suspense.  _

_ I get why you left, but I can’t believe you found somewhere even further from civilization to run off to. AND that you’re still there.  _

_ Couldn’t help but notice a logo on that one envelope. Deposits are due July 1st...and my parents’ offer to cover yours until you could pay them back still stands. Just...consider it? For  _ _ me _ _?  _

_ Call me to let me know you got these? If there are even phones all the way out there.  _

_ Miss you,  _

_ Shae _

Nicole’s gaze slipped from the letter in her hand to the envelope Shae referenced. She angrily turned it over, hiding the logo from view but  _of course_ , a seal on the back was revealed. Impatiently, she lifted up the mattress and shoved the letter between it and the box spring before stomping off to clean up. 

\--

Though dinner was no different than it had been since she arrived here, for once, Nicole failed to notice the usually deafening silence between her and Waverly. Instead, she brooded on Shae’s letter and the one hidden away under her mattress. She stabbed angrily at a roasted potato with her fork, as Waverly pushed her own food around her plate, not a single bite actually eaten yet. 

“Quite the stack of letters you got today,” Waverly commented. 

Nicole nodded, eyes fixated on her plate. “Yeah, I hope that’s okay. I gave my...parents...your address so they could forward my mail onto me.” 

A twinge of regret followed the white lie, but Nicole was grateful her parents didn’t have a clue where she was right now. Otherwise, she’d be guilted into sending the money she was making back home. 

“Oh! Yes! Of course. Absolutely,” Waverly stammered. “You must miss home?” 

“Nope.” 

“Not at all?” 

“No—well, mostly no...I have a friend, Shae...she’s the only part of there I’ll ever miss.” 

\--

Nicole could feel the exposed skin on her shoulders and forearms protesting, as the afternoon sun beat down on them. But it was too damn hot to even think of putting her long-sleeve button-up work shirt back on, so she carried on as she had for the better part of the afternoon, stripped down to her tank top fixing the fence on the boundary of Waverly’s property. 

The lines of barbed wire strung from post to post around the perimeter of Waverly’s land didn’t quite seem necessary all the way out here—was there even anyone around to keep out?—but it wasn’t Nicole’s job to question it. Just to fix it. 

And her heat-fried brain was having enough of a hard time focusing enough to keep her exposed skin from catching on a barb, that there wasn’t room for much else. 

Nicole swore at the distant rumble of Waverly’s Jeep, here to pick her up so she didn’t have to trek the whole way back to the house. She should’ve been done by now but, desperate to move quickly in the heat, she had started cutting corners, and now she’d be lucky if she didn’t cut herself fixing her own mistakes. 

But she picked up the pace, connecting one last low wire to the rest and pulling it taut, parallel to the one above, just as Waverly’s Jeep parked behind her. 

Grateful to finally get out of the sun, Nicole hurried up from her knees, but her neck bowed forward against some unseen resistance until, with a yank of her head she tore free.

“Shit.” 

Nicole backed gently away from the fence to see her old hat caught on a barb on the top wire of the fence. The sun gleamed off the metal penetrating the straw. 

Nicole swore again. Tuning out a chuckle from Waverly, she hovered her hands helplessly over the fenceline, unsure how to best how to salvage her hat. 

She sensed Waverly at her shoulder and tried to tame her sweaty hair; half of it was probably out of its braid by this point. 

“It’s a lost cause, isn’t it?” Nicole pouted, pulling at the fabric on her tank top, the sweat-soaked material hugging tightly against her stomach. 

“Yep,” Waverly replied easily. “Do we need to drive back along the fenceline? Is your shirt going to be caught somewhere around where you started?”

“I wondered where that got to,” Nicole deadpanned, wiping at her brow before sighing. “Do I just...leave her here? It’s gonna be in shreds if I pull her off.” 

“As fine of a monument as it would make to your work here, I’ll put  _ her  _ out of her misery,” Waverly offered. “Turn around, you don’t have to watch.” 

“No, it has to be me. I...I should be with her...in her final moments.” 

With a deep breath, Nicole reached out and quickly pulled her hat off the fence, a split spreading from the brim up to the top in the process. 

“She had a good life,” Waverly commented, patting Nicole on the back sympathetically before turning away. “C’mon cowboy, dinner time.” 

Running her thumb across the frayed straw, Nicole turned, placing the hat on her head one last time. 

\--

“You want coffee?” 

Nicole was brought out of her musings by the sound of Waverly’s voice carrying through the screen door. Loose hair fell into Nicole’s face, and she shook it away, missing her hat. 

“I’ve got stronger stuff too, if you want it,” Waverly added with a grin. 

“Coffee’s good,” Nicole replied, shifting back on the railing

A few minutes later the door opened and Waverly pushed through, and Nicole was surprised to see two mugs in her hands. Nicole took the one offered to her, noticing that Waverly’s didn’t have steam billowing from the top. 

Other than that one night, almost two weeks ago, Waverly had kept to herself in the evenings. Nicole couldn’t say she minded either way, but she also couldn’t help but wonder what changed.

“Can I ask you something? About your farm?” Nicole asked slowly, afraid of overstepping. 

Waverly turned and smiled. “Of course.” 

“That—that area of your property you had me work on today, the fenceline on the west side...all that space between where your crops stop and the fence...it’s good land.” 

Waverly lowered her mug and hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying the rest isn’t?” 

“Shit, no. I mean, or what I’m trying to say is—“ 

Waverly smirked and lifted a hand, cutting off Nicole’s rambling. “I’m teasing. What were you going to say?” 

Nicole swallowed before tentatively voicing her thought. “It seems like a...waste,” she grimaced at her own word choice before plowing forward. “I mean, you could make more money if you planted crops closer to the fenceline.”

“You’re right, it is a waste in some ways,” Waverly agreed, Nicole’s worries of overstepping eased slightly at Waverly echoing the word she used. “But it protects me in others.”

Nicole tilted her head, digesting that statement. “Like a moat?” 

Waverly grinned over the edge of her mug. “Exactly. Let’s just say I like to keep my cards close...and not tip my hand to my neighbors as to whether I turn a profit or not.”

Nicole pondered that tidbit while she took a tentative sip of her still-steaming coffee. She hadn’t considered whose property Waverly’s land bordered. And she certainly hadn’t seen anyone working on the other side either. 

“That’s what all the barbed wire’s for too?” Nicole asked. “Keepin’ these neighbors out?”

Waverly seemed to consider the question, her eyes considering Nicole carefully over the rim of her mug while she took a long swig of her drink. Nicole’s eyes were drawn to the corners of Waverly’s lips, lifting up in amusement before the mug lowered and any traces of a smile were gone. 

“Something like that.”

The vagueness of the statement wasn’t lost on Nicole, but it really wasn’t any of her business. She just counted herself lucky she hadn’t earned a sharp retort for stepping out of line and voicing her opinion. Nicole fell silent as Waverly turned to look out at the setting sun. 

With her back to Nicole and the orange glow framing her silhouette like a halo, Waverly looked smaller, and Nicole couldn’t help but wonder if it was only the angle and the lighting. Or had the topic of conversation caused Waverly to shrink in on herself. Had Champ’s untimely passing made...whatever was up with these neighbors any easier or harder?

The shotgun greeting when Nicole arrived to the farm left little to the imagination. Nicole thought of her own pistol, tucked in the nightstand in her room, and decided she might want to keep it on her person instead. 

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Nicole’s mind wandered through any rhyme or reason she could see for some sort of dispute. It kept getting tripped up on one question. 

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive…” Nicole cringed at herself again as Waverly whipped around. “...or  _ more  _ inconsiderate but...did you ever think about selling all this? After your husband died?” 

Waverly bristled, and Nicole stammered out an apology. But Waverly cut her off with a tired sigh and a wave of her hand. 

“No, it’s a fair question...“ Waverly trailed off, pushing her hair out of her face before she continued. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it. But...all this...this land, this house, they’re  _ mine _ . Of course, it was all Champ’s too, but I’ve never had anything that felt like it belonged to me like this does. It’s cliche, but this all grew on my blood, sweat, and tears. How could I just turn my back on it?” 

Waverly’s eyes turned watery as she spoke. She shut them tightly, shaking her head as if the movement would shake away her emotion, before she continued, a tired tone seeping into her voice. 

“I know it’ll be hard, real hard come harvest, especially without him, but...I can’t just turn my back on it...not without giving it a shot on my own.” 

The desperation that had seeped into Waverly’s tone was palpable in the air, wrapping around Nicole uncomfortably. She shifted on the railing, fighting a desire to comfort Waverly. 

“For what it’s worth,” Nicole started slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I think you’re managing this all beautifully.” 

Waverly beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way they hadn’t since Nicole first arrived at the farm. But it was quickly hidden, as Waverly downed the last of whatever was in her mug. 

The floorboards creaked slightly as Waverly walked closer to Nicole’s spot. Waverly rested a warm hand on her forearm, and a hint of whiskey lingered in the air. 

“Thanks, Nicole. I’m going to turn in. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Waverly.”


	4. Chapter 4

Nicole hurried down the hallway and into the dining room, swiping at her neck in a futile attempt to catch the bead of water she felt sliding down her hairline. 

Though she was in desperate need of a shower, she’d barely had enough time to wash her hands before dinner. Nicole had lost track of time working on the tractor, changing its oil, checking fluids, and applying grease. She’d hastily washed her neck and face and changed out of her dusty and stained clothes before rushing to the place Waverly had set for her at the table. 

In her short time at the farm, she’d learned two crucial things about Waverly. One: she didn’t like to be kept waiting at dinner time. Two: she didn’t like dirt in her dining room. 

Nicole was preoccupied with straightening out her appearance as she stepped into the room, so it wasn’t until her hand was curled around the chair to pull it out that she finally noticed something out of place. 

Sitting atop her plate was a large square box, complete with a blue bow. Nicole carefully reached out, fingers brushing against the crisp white cardboard.

“Waverly!” 

As if on cue, the clock chimed and Waverly backed into the double-hinge door between the kitchen and dining room, her hands filled with a large serving platter. 

“What’s this?” Nicole asked. 

“Oh shoot!” Waverly smirked, setting the dish down on the middle of the table. “I forgot I left that there. Nicole, can you just set that by the door? You can open it on the porch after dinner. I don’t want this to get cold.” 

Nicole hummed, a tentative finger stroking the satiny ribbon. “You are a tease, Ms. Earp, you know that?” 

“I would never dream of doing such a thing deliberately,” Waverly smiled, lifting the box so she could fill Nicole’s plate. “By the door? Please?” 

“Fine!” Nicole huffed, taking the box and shaking it next to her ear on her way down the hall. 

\--

As if she knew Nicole was squirming in her seat, anxious to see what was in the box by the door, Waverly seemed to draw out dinner, smirking as she took ample time to clear her plate. Before Nicole could push away from the table, Waverly was up and whisking back to the kitchen. She returned with an eclair cake for dessert that seemed to cool Nicole from the inside out. 

Nicole was shooed from the kitchen after she filled a mug with coffee. She waited impatiently on the railing while Waverly cleaned up. She had nearly finished her coffee before she heard the groan of the screen door hinges. Nicole turned toward the sound to see Waverly backing into the door to open it, hands occupied by the box and a mug of her own. 

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Waverly teased before the door slammed shut. 

Nicole shook her head. “I’m not scared.” 

“You look it,” Waverly shrugged before sitting the box on the railing by Nicole’s feet.

“I’m not used to presents,” Nicole admitted, shrinking back. 

“Didn’t say you had to be  _ used to it _ , you just gotta open it.” 

Nicole sat her mug aside and repositioned herself so that her legs dangled on either side of the railing. She pulled the box closer. 

With shaking fingers, she tugged on the bow until it fell aside. She pulled on a flap on the box, opening it to reveal a mess of tissue paper. It seemed so clean and pristine against her hands, stained as they were with oil, grease, and grime from the tractor. Though she had washed them thoroughly, first with GoJo at the hose and then again as soon as she stepped into Waverly’s house, she couldn’t help but wipe them on her jeans before she dug into the paper. It eventually parted, her gift visible from its spot at the bottom of the box. 

“Wow, Waverly.” 

Nicole gently lifted the Stetson hat from the box, turning it to see all sides before placing it atop her head, appreciating the perfect fit. It had only been a week, but her head had felt oddly naked without a hat to shield it from the elements. More than once, she had reached up, the habit of adjusting it on her head as natural as breathing, only to grasp at air. 

Nicole turned, surprised to find Waverly at her shoulder, close enough to feel her breath on her neck. 

“I thought it would look nice, contrasting against your hair,” Waverly said, straightening the hat. “Can’t be a cowboy without a hat, right?” 

Flashing a dimpled wide smile, Nicole exaggeratedly tipped it in Waverly’s direction with a low, murmured, “Ma’am.” 

She replaced it on her head and shrugged, “I’d say it works.  _ Thank you _ , Waverly. I don’t mean to seem unappreciative, but you didn’t have to do this. Really.” 

“I know, but I wanted to,” Waverly fidgeted before taking a step back, a breeze filling the space between them. “You deserved a…thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“Being patient with me.” Waverly bit her lip, eyes glossy. “You asked me what I meant the other day when I said I didn’t know how to be around people. And...let’s just say I’ve been lonely for a long time.” 

“Even before Champ died?” 

Waverly nodded, lips rolling in. 

“For how long?” 

“I’m not sure exactly…” 

Nicole pulled her hat from her head and held it in one hand at her side, bouncing it against the outside of her leg as she weighed her words.

“When was the last time you…weren’t?” 

Waverly bit her lip before turning her back to Nicole and leaning against another section of the railing, facing the setting sun. 

For a second, Nicole feared she had overstepped, until Waverly spoke shakily. 

“I don’t remember...momma ran off before I was in school, daddy and my oldest sister died not long after. And my other sister, Wynonna, left the second she could...my aunt and uncle raised me, and they tried their best, but...I’ve  _ always _ felt like something’s been...missing?” 

Nicole slowly slid off her spot and moved to lean against the railing next to Waverly, but kept her attention resolutely focused on the horizon. 

“I found Champ and, at first, when I was with him…that feeling didn’t feel quite so… _ overwhelming?  _ But then we tried to—” Waverly stopped abruptly. Nicole felt Waverly’s long flowing hair brush against her shoulder and neck as Waverly shook her head. With a shaky inhale, Waverly continued, seeming to redirect her train of thought somewhere else. “But maybe it’s all me?” 

Nicole fought the instinct to turn, sensing Waverly would prefer some small semblance of privacy. “What do you mean?” 

“I ran too,” Waverly answered simply, and Nicole felt Waverly twitch at her side, almost as if she longed to run again. “My aunt and uncle were caring, loving, and all the stability I should’ve wanted, but I...left. In the middle of the night. Hitchhiked until I was two states away and took the first job I could find.” 

”Wynonna...is that the sister that’s coming out here? To help you?” 

“I don’t need any help,” Waverly huffed, and Nicole felt her slip away. 

She finally turned, seeing hazel eyes with a fire in them, and not just from the reflection of the horizon glaring in the distance. 

“No, you don’t,” Nicole agreed slowly, not wanting to further spook Waverly. 

“But yes. Her and her husband...or...whatever they are, needed some time to get their shit in order before they could move across the country.” 

“How’d you find her? If she ran off?” 

“ _ She _ found  **_me_ ** ,” Waverly corrected grumpily, focusing firmly on the horizon. “When it was convenient for her to be a sister again.” 

There was a note of finality in that statement that made clear that this brief window into Waverly’s vulnerabilities was firmly over, but it couldn’t quite mask the hint of bitterness that clouded Waverly’s tone. 

Her brain rang empty of words, but pain for Waverly’s situation spurred Nicole to the only response she could find: putting her hat back on her head and sliding closer to fill the gap Waverly had created between them. 

Waverly turned toward her, and the air seemed to still around them as she looked from Nicole’s lips to her eyes and back. For the barest of seconds, Waverly’s head tilted closer before abruptly pulling back. 

Almost as one, they turned back to face the sunset. Nicole felt Waverly’s head lean against her arm. 

“Have you always worn that braid?” Waverly asked, Nicole feeling the breath from Waverly’s words dance across her sleeve. 

“Not always, no,” Nicole admitted, her other hand automatically rising to touch the back of her french braid. “My aunt used to do my hair this way, when I was little and helped out on their farm, to keep it out of my face when we worked. I guess it just stuck.” 

Waverly hummed in response and Nicole sensed she wanted more to the story, but Nicole deflected. “Actually, I’m thinking of cutting it.” 

Waverly stood up at that, no longer leaning against Nicole. Her eyes scanned from one ear, across her face to the other. With a little nod, Waverly eased back to her spot. 

“I can cut it for you, if you want,” Waverly offered, before stifling a yawn. “Though maybe another night.” 

“Another night,” Nicole agreed. 

\--

The approaching rumble of a diesel engine caught Nicole’s attention. Surprised by the sound, Nicole dropped the hay bale in her hands before prying off her gloves. She tossed them aside just as she heard a car door slam shut. 

Surely Waverly would’ve mentioned if she was expecting company. In almost a month at the farm, the mailman was the only other person she had seen, apart from Waverly. 

Not wanting to pry, Nicole peeked around the corner of the barn. There in the driveway, parked haphazardly about ten yards from the porch, was a shiny new black dually truck, replete with gaudy chrome trim. A tall man ambled towards the entry. The sun reflected off his slicked back blonde hair, and the soles of his boots dragged against the dirt, stirring up little clouds of dust in his wake. 

The crack of the screen door slamming against its frame drew Nicole’s attention to the porch. She was surprised to find Waverly on a warpath, shotgun raised and still in her work clothes; the strange man unmistakably in her crosshairs. 

Nicole pulled her pistol from her waistband as she slipped around the corner, careful not to draw attention to herself, unsure what she was about to walk in on. 

“Did you see the ‘no trespassing sign’ or did you choose to ignore it, like you’re ignoring your  _ son’s  _ will?”

“Trespassing on my own land,” the man chuckled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, as he ambled round the truck. “I knew Champ liked your looks, hunny, but he never mentioned how funny you are too.” 

Nicole stepped to the side, careful to step out of the line of the truck when Waverly pumped her gun ominously. Though she was getting closer and closer to sliding into Champ’s dad’s peripheral vision, he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Aren’t you cute?” Champ’s father mused. “What, are you going to kill  _ me _ for my land too?” 

“Leave or you might find out, Jimmy.”

“Oh hunny, I have no intention of leaving ‘til I get that deed. Might as well make myself comfy, no use standing around out in the sun.”

Nicole ducked, a split second before she sensed Waverly was going to fire, and not having the faintest idea where that shot might go. 

The warning shot sprayed the passenger side of the truck, and a cloud of dust obscured Champ’s dad as he dove for cover behind the far side of his truck. 

When Waverly cocked the gun again, Jimmy jumped up, pushing up his sleeves, “Oh, girl, you’re  _ finally _ going to learn a fuckin’ lesson that my boy was too  **_soft_ ** to show you.” 

He hadn’t taken more than two steps to get back around his truck when Nicole fired, her bullet ricocheting off the wheel of his truck, stopping Jimmy in his tracks.

“You best stop right there, unless you want the Sheriff out here to collect your body bag,” Nicole drawled, hoping to buy time to situate herself between him and Waverly. “You’re on her property, and she’s asked you to leave.” 

Jimmy looked dazed, finally seeing Nicole as she strode closer, not daring to rush in case he turned this into a foot race. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat. 

“Just helping Ms. Earp tend to her property,” Nicole shrugged, breathing a little easier as she finally reached the foot of the stairs. 

That was until she remembered there was a cocked shotgun at her back, with a finger that had already proven to not be shy on the trigger. 

She just prayed Waverly wouldn’t shoot her in the back. 

Though there was a holster hanging off of Jimmy’s belt and his hand hovered over it, he seemed to at least have the sense to realize two drawn weapons versus his wasn’t good odds; the red anger on his face gave away his displeasure at the situation. 

Champ’s dad spit in the dirt before nodding slowly. “The Sheriff will be by, after all. I suppose he’ll want to speak to you...ah,  _ ladies _ , about how this damage came to be on my brand new truck.” 

“Oh, fuck off, Jimmy,” Waverly called back. “You’re not telling Nedley shit. I can smell your Miller High Life all the way from here.” 

He had turned toward the driver’s door, but it would be too much to hope he’d leave without firing the last metaphorical shot, so Nicole’s hand tightened on her weapon. 

“You were a goddamn  _ curse _ on my son’s life, Earp,” Jimmy snarled, fumbling to open the door to his truck. “I’m not about to let a dirty whore profit off my land either.” 

He tore out of the driveway, and Nicole waited until the cloud of dust trailing behind the truck faded from view before she turned to Waverly. 

The blazing fire and heat in Waverly’s eyes was gone, replaced by hurt and weariness; even though Waverly was older than her, it was the first time Waverly’s eyes gave away that she had seen more than her age let on. 

After a long moment of silence, Waverly’s turned to Nicole. Her eyes widened, seeming surprised to find Nicole’s gaze on her. Nicole had no more than opened her mouth to speak before Waverly turned and stomped into the house. 

Nicole kept her pistol out while she lingered on the porch. She stared down the road to where it faded into the horizon, in case Jimmy decided to return, allowing Waverly her space. When she finally retreated into the cool shade of the house, she heard the water running; the steady stream from the shower not enough to mask Waverly’s sobs that echoed through the walls. 

\--

Waverly’s subdued presence permeated through the walls that separated them as if they weren’t even there. Nicole wasted away the afternoon and early evening, pacing between the entry and the porch, fighting the urge to check on Waverly after she had been kicked out of the kitchen once. The tension in the house was suffocating, and it chased her out into the hot, dry air before she could succumb to the urge to comfort Waverly. 

Again. 

She’d take no more than a few steps into the entry before she heard Waverly’s sobs from the kitchen and turned herself back around, back onto the porch before she gave in to the temptation to run to Waverly’s side. 

Though Nicole truly wasn’t getting anywhere, pacing back-and-forth, the movement and her worry for Waverly was enough to distract her from thinking about her own behavior that afternoon. 

It wasn’t the first time she had fired the pistol she had stolen from her own father, but she was still unsettled by her own actions. She had taken it for self-defense before she ran off, but aiming it so closely to another human before firing, and knowing so confidently she would hit her target as opposed to flesh and bone was, well, new. 

She shook her head, not wanting to go down that path, and turned back inside once more. 

When Waverly finally emerged from the house, scolding Nicole that she was late for dinner, Nicole pretended not to notice her red and still watery eyes. 

After ten minutes of painful silence where neither one of them bothered to do anything more than pick at their food, Nicole couldn’t keep quiet any longer. 

“That man,” Nicole rasped before clearing her throat, hoping to shake the rust from its lack of use. “Jimmy...he’s Champ’s dad?”

Eyes still on her plate, Waverly only nodded. 

“He's the reason you pulled a gun on me when I first showed up...isn’t he?” 

Waverly jumped at her question, wide eyes meeting Nicole’s like she hadn’t expected Nicole to piece that together. She swallowed before nodding slowly. 

Nicole knew better than to push, so with a nod of her own, she dug in, not missing the sigh of relief from across the table. 

\--

Nicole kicked Waverly out of the kitchen, insisting she would clean up; though she had tried to do this a few times before, it was the first time she had succeeded with surprisingly little protest from Waverly. 

When Nicole finally retreated to her perch on the railing for the evening, lost in her own thoughts, it took the crack of the screen door to realize Waverly was in front of her, offering a bottle of whiskey, its stopper nowhere in sight. 

Nicole took a small sip and offered it back. Waverly shook her head before hopping up onto the railing herself, her legs and bare feet dangling off the side away from the porch. 

“Jimmy never liked me,” Waverly began. “Or at least I don’t think he ever did? He never thought I was good enough for his  _ precious  _ son.” 

“How did you meet Champ?” 

“I told you I ran away, right? From my aunt and uncle’s?” 

Nicole nodded, lifting the bottle to her lips again, and Waverly continued. “I think I left out that I got a job in a strip joint.” 

The whiskey that was halfway down Nicole’s throat caught at the image of Waverly, topless, that flashed through her mind. 

“I definitely left that out,” Waverly chuckled, taking the bottle back as Nicole coughed and sputtered. 

The whiskey seared and burned enough for Nicole’s eyes to water before she managed to pull it together. 

Nicole tried not to let her gaze give away where her imagination had gone, but Waverly’s smirk seemed to know anyway. 

“No comments on that, cowboy?” 

Nicole shook her head emphatically, not trusting her voice with the burn of regurgitated whiskey still on the back of her tongue. 

Waverly’s raised eyebrow didn’t seem to believe her but she continued on, “Anyway, the rodeo rolled into town one weekend and that’s how I met Champ.” 

“What was he like?” 

Waverly took a long swig from the bottle before answering. “Sweet. Protective...not always the brightest. But he was mine. He fought for me, alongside me...and I loved him dearly...even if I couldn’t give him everything he wanted...” she trailed off, eyes growing misty before she hid them behind another gulp from the bottle. “...and now he’s just  _ gone _ . Some days it’s like he was never even here. Others, I see him  **_everywhere_ ** .” 

“Which is better?” 

“I don’t know,” Waverly answered hollowly. “Because it's either forgetting him or being tormented by all he’s left behind. Neither seems healthy, does it?” 

“No…” Nicole trailed off, not sure what else to say. 

The silence that fell between them was unusually uncomfortable, the weight of it prickling Nicole’s skin with each passing second, as she searched for another question to ask. 

“Do you ever think about where you’d be if you hadn’t met him?” 

Waverly snorted, some of the light returning to her eyes. “Still in that damn strip club.” 

She offered the bottle back to Nicole before sighing, “No, I don’t know. I had dreams...I wanted to make it to the coast before I settled down, but I got cold feet. And I wanted to read every book in the library…” 

“You could do those things now, couldn’t you?” 

Waverly shrugged. “Could I, though? This is all I know anymore…and how else would anyone find me?” 

Nicole bit down the urge to ask the questions that bubbled to the surface about Waverly and Champ and Jimmy, about everyone else that was ever in her life; she couldn’t help but feel this sudden transparency from Waverly was at least a little whiskey-fueled. And it was wrong to pry with Waverly in this state. Instead, she took a sip from the bottle and asked the one question she really did need to know the answer to. 

“Jimmy’s gonna come back, isn’t he?” 

“He always does.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	5. Chapter 5

One Friday afternoon, Waverly had already washed up when she all but dragged Nicole inside and ordered her to clean up. When Nicole emerged from the house, in clean clothes and hair still damp, she found Waverly pacing on the porch. 

“We’re going out. Want me to drive?” 

With a shake of her head, Nicole reached for her keys. “Where are we goin’?” 

“Nowhere in particular. I just need...to get away.” 

Nicole nodded, twirling her key ring around her finger while she waited for Waverly to lock the front door behind them. As soon as she pulled the key from the lock, Waverly hurried past, bouncing down the stairs and to the truck, seeming all too eager to put the farm in the rearview mirror for the night. 

By the time Nicole lifted herself into the driver’s seat, Waverly was already settled into the passenger side, seat belt buckled, and chuckling. 

Nicole pulled her door closed, the groaning hinges only elevating her self-consciousness. 

Sure her Bronco wasn’t new, not the like shiny, not even a year old F250 Heavy Duty hidden in the barn under a thick canvas tarp, that had to have been Champ’s. Dirt clung to the sun-faded red paint on her truck, and stained the white stripe and topper, a little too heavily to hope Waverly hadn’t noticed. But her Bronco was all  _ hers _ . 

“What?” Nicole asked, blindly reaching for her seatbelt with her eyes on Waverly. 

“I wasn’t expecting the carpet to match the drapes,” Waverly replied, patting the plush red interior. 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Nicole clicked her seatbelt into place and then fumbled to put her key in the ignition before mumbling as she turned the key. “Might not be the only case of that.”

Waverly’s “what?” was nearly drowned out by the engine roaring to life. 

“Ah, uh, nothing!” 

Minus Waverly’s directions, the cab fell silent. A few times Waverly fidgeted with the radio dial, unable to find a station that came in clearly. The static didn’t help the unsettled energy, and Waverly would punch the button before staring out the window at the endless wheat fields once more. 

The movement from the passenger seat tested Nicole’s focus on the road. Waverly’s long hair, wavy from her shower, danced in her peripheral vision, the scent of her shampoo carried by the breeze created by the open windows and billowing towards the backseat. 

After over an hour of aimless driving, Nicole’s stomach grumbled audibly, finally prompting Waverly to admit she had been directing Nicole on a round-about way to a drive-in. 

They ate in silence, Waverly’s restlessness seeping into Nicole. She fidgeted with the straw from her drink until they hit the road once more.

“I need a distraction,” Waverly admitted, after giving up with the radio once more. “Tell me about Shae.” 

Nicole did, eyes narrowed against the setting sun, blinding in her rearview mirror. She told Waverly how she met her best friend in elementary school and everything up until Nicole leaving her hometown. The only parts she left out were one particular night, and her familiarity with the parking lot at Shae’s family’s business. 

When she finished, Waverly was silent, and Nicole stole a glance at the passenger seat. She was surprised to see soft eyes and a gentle, almost knowing, smile looking back at her. 

“You miss her, huh?” Waverly asked. 

Nicole forced her eyes back to the road and nodded. 

“Did you get something from her in your stack of fan mail the other day?” 

Nicole’s throat felt suddenly parched, and she reached for her soda before nodding again. 

“You didn’t write back to her, did you?” 

Nicole took a long sip from her straw, leaving only ice and air left in her cup, before admitting, “Nope.” 

There was a hum from the passenger seat, and Nicole fought the urge to turn back and look at Waverly again. 

With her attention fixated on the seemingly never-ending road ahead, Nicole wasn’t sure how long they had fallen into silence once again. When Waverly spoke up though, the sun had nearly vanished behind the horizon.

“You know...there were a couple girls I used to work with and, well, they didn’t care for men. They were into other girls...” 

Nicole’s throat was dry once again, and when she swallowed, she swore she could hear it echo into the silence of the truck, the sound bouncing around the empty cargo area like it was a cave. She pried her hand from the gearshift to the wheel, forcing herself not to reach for her drink again. 

“...does that sound like you and Shae?” 

Nicole’s foot slipped, dropping heavily onto the gas pedal before she could correct it. The truck lurched forward, and Nicole swore, her loss of composure all-but answering Waverly’s question. 

“Hey…” 

Nicole jumped at Waverly’s hand on her thigh. 

“...it’s okay,” Waverly soothed, her thumb running gently over Nicole’s jeans before it abruptly pulled back. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

Nicole’s focus naturally drifted from the road to the passenger seat, Waverly’s eyes alight with nothing but kindness and care in the dark. 

When Nicole turned back to the road, the Bronco had drifted across the yellow line. Cursing again, her hands twisted the wheel, jerking it back into their lane. 

“Let me get us back in one piece first...and then... _ maybe _ .” 

Nicole tried, and failed, to expel her tension with a deep breath, her right hand automatically sliding back to the gearshift. 

She felt the warmth radiating from Waverly’s calloused hand before it covered her own. 

“Whatever you’d like,” Waverly replied gently. 

\--

Waverly’s hand remained there, the warmth calming Nicole’s nerves for the rest of the drive, even as Nicole downshifted before easing to a stop in the driveway. Only when Nicole reached for the park brake did Waverly’s hand slid away, the feel of her palm lingering on Nicole’s skin. 

Nicole couldn’t bring herself to get out of the truck. Not when she worried Waverly wouldn’t let her back into the house after she knew. This truck was her sanctuary, the only thing she had to her name, and her home when she had no other. 

When Nicole finally turned toward the passenger seat, Waverly had made no move to leave the confines of the vehicle either. The few strands of gray in Waverly’s hair seemed to sparkle, illuminated by the faint porch light and the flickering from the worn-out dusk-to-dawn light on the barn. 

“Come on,” Waverly nodded toward the window. “Let’s sit on the porch.” 

Nicole’s nervous legs buckled as she hopped down from the truck, the fields around them doing little to mute the echo into the vast emptiness around them as she slammed the door shut. 

She made it as far as the steps, nervously pacing in front of them with her hands in her pockets, but she couldn’t bring herself to go any further. Waverly perched on the top step and waited patiently. 

With her eyes following the marks her boots left in the dust, Nicole mumbled, “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

Nicole looked up, seeing Waverly with her elbow on her knee, chin on her hand, watching her intently. 

“Are you gonna make me say it?” 

Waverly smirked and nodded. 

Nicole turned to face the fields, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets and feeling her keys scrape against her skin. 

“What you said...about liking other girls...that sounds like me.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat before continuing. “But maybe not Shae.” 

“Maybe not? But not  _ definitely  _ not?” 

Nicole shook her head, kicking at the dirt before she answered. “We kissed. Once.” Nicole sighed. “Just once. But…we had both been drinking, too much probably for her to remember it...and she never mentioned it.” 

“Did you ask her?” 

“Course not, I was too embarrassed. I mean, I was probably bad at it, anyway.” 

Waverly laughed softly, and the gentleness in the sound was enough to draw Nicole’s attention back to her. 

“I doubt you were, Nicole.” 

Nicole shook her head slightly, eyeing the way Waverly’s attention was so intently on her, like she was the only other thing that existed in the world. She felt like she was under a spotlight, hot and uncomfortable in spite of the cooling night air. She tugged at her collar before taking a step closer to the porch, a sudden unexpected confidence straightening her spine. She cocked her head at Waverly. 

“Have you...I mean...you  _ weren’t _ …one of those girls? Were you?” 

Waverly smirked again. “Not usually, but I did spend a night or two with a woman I worked with. Before Champ, of course.” 

Nicole swallowed hard as an image her imagination had run wild with, eighteen year old Waverly with hardly an article of clothing on, flashed into her mind once more. 

“You, don’t say?” 

Waverly stood and beckoned Nicole closer. “It’s been a few years, but I do think I’m qualified.” 

Nicole forced herself to be cool, praying that she could close the distance without tripping over her boots. “Qualified?” 

“To see if you’re bad at it.” Waverly shrugged. “Or not.” 

Nicole blinked, being reeled in by the traces of Waverly’s perfume in the breeze. With the height of the step, suddenly Nicole was lost in the eyes at equal level to her own. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Nope,” Waverly teased, fingers curling in her belt loops to tug her across the last little bit of distance that separated them. 

Nicole watched as Waverly’s eyes slipped closed before she tilted her head, leaning forward to finally meet Waverly’s lips. 

They had barely brushed together, but the limited contact only made Nicole want more. She shuffled as close as she could. Her boots thudded against the wood of the step, as her hands found Waverly’s hips to pull her closer. Their lips moved against one another, and she felt Waverly’s hand move from her belt to her shoulder then around the back of her neck, brushing at the strands of her hair, too short to stay in her braid. 

With bated breath, Nicole pulled back, feeling Waverly lean forward the slightest bit to chase her, before she stumbled, losing her footing on the step. 

Nicole’s hands tightened on Waverly’s hips, holding her in place. She still held her breath, scared to voice her question with the feeling of Waverly still tingling on her lips, and Waverly’s warm palm sliding from her neck to her jaw. 

“So?” 

“Definitely not bad,” Waverly assured, with a smile, hand running past her ear and into Nicole’s hair before tipping her hat back, as if to better see her face in the dim light. 

Still nervous, Nicole tried to discern if Waverly’s tone was genuine or out of pity. Unable to make heads or tails of it, Nicole nodded, with a deep breath and a forced smile of her own. 

Suddenly Waverly’s hands fell away, and with the breeze picking up, a chill replaced the contact. 

Waverly bolted a step backward. “I’m...I’m going to go inside. Read a little before bed. You need anything?” 

Confused by the abruptness of everything, Nicole shook her head, hearing the screen door smack closed before she realized Waverly’s perfume was all that was left. 

\--

“Fuck!” 

Nicole shook out her hand, the fragile skin on her knuckles split open. Again. 

After back-to-back days busting her knuckles working first in the tight confines beneath the hood of Waverly’s Jeep and then the tractor’s, the split skin refused to heal. But it was almost a week later, and after only succeeding in getting one of those engines to turn over, Nicole had lost all patience. 

Seeing droplets of her blood fling toward an approaching Waverly, Nicole abruptly stilled, cradling her hand. Her own shirts and the inside of her work gloves had been stained with blood, and she didn’t think Waverly would take too kindly to her own clothes being marred with red too. 

Swallowing her pride, Nicole nodded before Waverly could ask if she was okay. “Do you have any Vick’s?” 

Waverly’s eyes narrowed, but she turned back toward the house, calling over her shoulder. “Are you sick?” 

Nicole shook her head, preoccupied with using part of her shirt that had come untucked to stem the flow. 

By the time it had stopped, the only evidence remaining on Nicole’s shirt, Waverly had returned, using a finger to lift Nicole’s chin to meet her gaze. 

“Are you sick?” Waverly repeated, seeking out her eyes, but Nicole focused solely on the tin of Vick’s Vapor Rub held loosely at Waverly’s side. 

Nicole shook her head again before stepping back from Waverly’s touch as if it burned. 

It had been hard being in such close proximity to Waverly since their kiss. Waverly didn’t have any perfume on at the moment, but Nicole could still smell it, swirling around her in the air and taunting her. 

The scent seemed to follow Nicole everywhere since that night, leaving her in a constant state of confusion as she went about her usual life on the farm. 

Waverly had been an eager volunteer, Nicole told herself; she hadn’t asked for her to weigh in on her abilities, or insecurities. But Nicole was left wading through this confusion on her own, not knowing if their kiss was an innocent, playful gesture or more. 

When she wasn’t otherwise occupied, the brief second where Waverly had chased after her lips left Nicole tormented. That charged moment was both laced with the hope of wanting more and the chilling, abrupt realization of having gone too far. 

The ache of her split knuckles took her attention from the Waverly in her mind’s eye to the one in front of her.

Nicole extended her hand for the tin before speaking. “Nah, a trick my uncle taught me was to put it on cracked skin to help it heal.” 

Waverly batted away her hand before unscrewing the lid. “Let me?” 

Nicole paused, but Waverly didn’t seem to appreciate even that split second of hesitation. 

“You’re not sticking your bloody hands in there and wasting all this.” 

Nicole held up her hands, surrendering. She stepped back closer to Waverly, fighting a chuckle. “Okay, fine.” 

Waverly tenderly ran the paste across her knuckles, a shiver running up Nicole’s spine at the cool relief across her skin. 

“Better?” Waverly asked, screwing the lid back on the tin, but not moving out of Nicole’s space. 

Nicole smiled, fighting against the urge to pull Waverly closer to her. “Much.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, the Vick’s trick is real. 
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	6. Chapter 6

Nicole thought she was from a small town, but here “town” consisted of two buildings: a general store complete with a post office and two gas pumps outside and a diner with a motel above, the cobwebs around the vacancy sign visible from even a distance. 

She parked her truck outside the general store and was halfway to the door before she noticed a payphone off to the side of the building. She changed her path, fumbling for the change in her pocket, and dialing Shae’s number as soon as the receiver was against her ear. 

“Pressman residence.” 

“Hey...“ Nicole trailed off, unsure what to say.

“NICOLE!” 

She pulled the receiver away from her ear, but it was too late to shield her poor eardrum from the sting of her friend’s excitement. 

Fighting a smile and tipping down the brim of her hat to better hide her emotions, Nicole kept several inches of airspace between her still aching ear and the receiver, Shae’s incoherent squealing audible. 

When her friend finally stopped for air, Nicole rested the plastic back against her ear, using her shoulder to hold it in place. 

“I guess you’re happy to hear from me?” Nicole chuckled. 

“Yes,” Shae sighed, her relief palpable. Nicole pictured her friend pacing down the hall as she spoke, having watched Shae wear that path across the wood floors too many times. “Don’t let it get to your head. It’s only because it’s been WEEKS.”

“It’s only been a month.” 

“No, it’s been _five_ weeks,” Shae corrected. “Tell me _everything._ How’s the work? Ooohh do you have a farmer’s tan? Or did you just burn like you always do? No! How’s your boss? Widow-woman? What was her name?” 

“Waverly?” 

Nicole expected more questions but, instead, was met with an odd silence on the other end. She paused, puzzled by Shae’s sudden stillness. 

“I...I said her name’s Waverly?” Nicole replied, feet fidgeting restlessly, unsure what else to do. 

“Say her name one more time.” 

“Waaave-r-ly,” Nicole drew out, thinking Shae had misheard...something. 

“Your voice sounds funny,” Shae observed. “But only when you say her name.” 

Nicole waited with bated breath, wondering if Shae would connect the dots. 

But she could practically hear Shae’s shrug over the airways before she continued, “Whatever. Tell me about her. Is she all old and wrinkly?” 

Nicole choked on her tongue in her haste to come to Waverly’s defense. Her brain stalled on the image of Waverly working in her garden the other day, rubber boots, cut off jeans, and an old denim shirt that would’ve been entirely too big for her if not for the ripped-off sleeves and tails tied up to reveal her toned stomach. 

Nicole gasped, the sensation of Waverly’s lips burning on her own as she managed to choke out, “She’s not that old!” 

“Oookay. Has the lack of social interaction fried your brain?” 

Nicole finally recovered enough to snipe, “Nah, but this heat might.” 

Shae chuckled, “But it’s going well? You sound...happy?” 

“It is...and I am. I _really_ am.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Nicole could hear the genuineness in Shae’s comment, but the peace she found in it was short-lived. 

“Another letter from the university came…” Shae trailed off. 

“Don’t bother sending it, I’m—” 

“It’s already on the way,” Shae interjected. “I sent it a few days ago but…” 

Nicole knew that tone all too well and braced a hand on the side of the payphone. “What did you do?” 

“I just...called that admissions counselor and gave him your new address, that’s all,” Shae answered innocently. 

Nicole’s eyes narrowed, “That’s all?” 

It certainly didn’t seem like all. 

“Yep! Shit I gotta go, I’ll be late for work. But... _seriously_ Nicole. Think about it. I know this seems fun and all, but do you _really_ want to do this kind of work your whole life? Love ya!” 

Nicole snarled, but before she could reply, there was a click. Shae had hung up, leaving Nicole alone with her frustrations. 

\--

By the time Nicole made her way back to the farm, the sun was low in the sky, but her mood was stuck resolutely in its same spot. 

She had hurried through picking up the items on Waverly’s list before retreating back to her truck. But the drive and open road did nothing to chase away her anger with Shae. 

With her mind occupied with things other than the speedometer, her truck lurched to a stop in her usual spot; a firmer punch to the brake pedal needed to still its momentum after she tore up the driveway. 

The back of her shirt was damp from being caught between her skin and the hot plush fabric of the seat. It stuck uncomfortably to her back as she unloaded supplies into the barn before carrying the rest into the house. Waverly met her just inside the door, with instructions on where to deposit everything. 

Once they were tucked away, Nicole turned to head back outside, ignoring Waverly’s questions as the screen door slammed shut in her wake. 

She bolted to the hose, spinning the knob before unfurling the hose from the nail it hung on. When the spigot finally gurgled to life, followed by the cascade of water filling the hose, she held the nozzle above her head and squeezed the trigger. 

Looking to the sky, Nicole closed her eyes as cool water finally hit her face, hoping the water could chase not just the heat on her skin, but her hot head away. The heavy mist quickly soaked through her shirt and turned the dust to mud before she released the trigger of the nozzle, stopping the flow. 

Her free hand tugged at her braid. Once freed, she shook out her hair, hearing a giggle that forced her eyes open. 

“What are you doing?” Waverly asked. 

“I was hot,” Nicole grumbled, turning the water off. “And maybe a little bothered.” 

“I was trying to tell you before you ran outta the house, but you have some mail if that will lift your spirits. And one thing looked... _interesting_.” 

Nicole perked up, hands still corralling the hose but focus shifting to Waverly. “What is it? Who’s it from?” 

Waverly shook her head before backing towards the house. “Nope. Get cleaned up... _really_ cleaned up, and you’ll see.” 

After drying off and changing into clean clothes, Nicole found Waverly bustling around the kitchen, humming to the faint sound from the radio. 

“So, where’s my mail?” Nicole asked, hopping up onto a vacant section of counter space. 

Waverly glared at her, but still turned, grabbing an envelope from atop a stack on the other side of the room. 

Before Waverly could hand it over, the light caught on a shiny red seal on the back. The anger and frustration that had died to embers sparked again. 

Nicole hopped down from the counter, turning toward the dining room. “Nope, it’s nothing. Trash it.” 

“What do you mean? It’s from University of—“ 

“I know who it’s from,” Nicole snarled, pushing open the door. 

The air in the dining room felt stifling against Nicole’s flushed skin. She hurried through the house, not bothering to put her boots back on, before she stomped out onto the porch. She paced, from end to end, forcing deep breaths of the evening air into her lungs. 

The crack of the screen door smacking against its frame alerted her to Waverly’s arrival, but Nicole deliberately turned her back toward the door. Despite the blood boiling in her veins, she forced herself to still, leaning against the railing. 

She could hear the hesitation in Waverly’s steps, slowly approaching. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Waverly said softly. 

“I’m not upset.” Nicole shrugged, chiding herself for the childish tone in her voice that contradicted her words and forced nonchalance. 

Nicole felt Waverly draw closer, coming to stand next to her at the railing. 

“Why are they writing to you?” Waverly asked. 

Nicole ignored the question. Instead she leaned further out over the railing, willing more space between her and Waverly. 

Waverly wasn’t content to let it go. She reached for one of Nicole’s curled up fists and pried her fingers apart before wedging her own in-between. The movement of Waverly’s thumb rubbing across her hand, acting as a release valve in Nicole, allowing her anger to dissipate, like steam floating toward the darkening sky. 

“Shae talked me into applyin,” Nicole finally admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get in...it was just to make her happy.” 

Waverly’s thumb stilled against her skin. “You got in?! Is that what this letter is about? When do classes star—” 

“I’m not goin’,” Nicole interjected, tone firm, pulling her hand back from Waverly’s grasp. She pushed off the railing, stepping away from Waverly to pace once again. 

“But this is an unbelievable opportunity! If I—” 

“But I’m not you, Waverly,” Nicole fumed. 

“No. No, you’re not, but Nicole, you’ll regret it forever if you don’t give this a shot.” 

“Nope, no I won’t.” 

“ _Nicole_ —” 

Nicole shook her head, finally turning to face Waverly. “No. I’m not goin’. _You_ don’t need to lecture me about it, you’re not my mother, we’re not dating, we—,” Nicole’s face burned hot, but she plowed on. “You’re my employer, Waverly. Just let it go.” 

The comment rippled across Waverly’s features, not unlike a slap to the face. Nicole felt herself frown, an apology already at her lips, confused by how crestfallen Waverly appeared by the statement. 

Before Nicole could question it, Waverly turned back toward the house, the whole porch seeming to shake with the force of the door slamming closed. 

\--

Sleep eluded Nicole all night. She tossed and turned restlessly for hours before giving up, turning off the extra early alarm she had set and pulling on clothes.

She wasn’t sure which torment had so negatively impacted her rest: her continued frustration with Shae or the guilt over taking it out on Waverly. 

Taking extra care to be quiet as she passed through the hallway, not wanting to wake Waverly, she walked into the kitchen. Though it was earlier than Waverly would ordinarily rise, breakfast and coffee were already made. Waverly was nowhere in sight, presumably already started work for the day. 

With her stomach churning guiltily, Nicole passed on breakfast but downed some coffee before making her way to the outside to start on her chores. 

It didn’t take long for her to find Waverly, stomping out from the barn, arms full of sandpaper. 

Even in the low light, the extra vigor which Waverly threw into her movements, before she abruptly dropped the sandpaper amongst a haphazard collection of paint, rollers, and brushes, couldn’t hide that Waverly had barely slept. The guilt eating at Nicole grew as she registered Waverly’s puffy red eyes and the way the lines on Waverly’s face stood out more than usual. 

Nicole was careful to drag the heels of her boots across the dirt, hoping the noise would alert Waverly to her presence, lest she startle her. 

Waverly looked up at the noise but frowned and stomped back into the barn. She returned with a ladder propped on her shoulder. 

“M—mornin’, Waverly,” Nicole stammered, forcing her nervous hands into her pockets, her thumbs hooking through her belt loops. 

“Morning,” Waverly replied, marching past and propping the ladder next to the porch. 

Nicole waited until she passed again, to ask just _what_ was going on. 

“I’m painting the house,” Waverly stated, like it was the almost obvious thing to do before dawn. 

“Oh, um, okay,” Nicole nodded, not quite following, before she shook her head. “I, um, I was...I was in a foul mood last night and you didn’t deserve any of it. I called Shae when I was in town yesterday and she struck a nerve with somethin’. Coming back and seeing that letter...just reminded me of all of it…” Nicole trailed off, kicking at the dirt. “It was wrong of me to take it out on you, you didn’t deserve that, and I’m sor—“

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Nicole,” Waverly replied airly, gathering back up her sandpaper. 

“Are you—are you sure?” 

Waverly nodded firmly. “Can you start feeding the animals?” 

“I’ll get right on that. But...but, you’re sure we’re okay?”

Waverly finally looked up and the pained, forced smile on her face felt like a kick to the gut. “Of course, Nicole.” 

\--

When Nicole made her way into the dining room later that night, she couldn’t help but feel something was still...off. 

There was almost a tension in the air that filled the room even though Waverly was a wall and a closed door away. The only change in the room was a single lit candle in the middle of the table. 

Nicole took a deep breath but found that...whatever it was that lingered in the air...wasn’t altogether unpleasant. 

_ Maybe it’s from whatever Waverly’s making for dinner,  _ Nicole thought, stepping further into the room. 

Though she immediately went to her chair, she changed her mind once she reached it. She continued, rounding the table and knocking softly on the kitchen door, to not surprise Waverly, before she eased it open. “You need a hand with anything, Waverly?” 

She was met with the sight of Waverly, hunched over as she pulled a pan from the oven. The pale blue, silken material of her dress stood out in stark contrast to the soft, worn cotton Waverly ordinarily changed into after she cleaned up for the day. 

It fit her well, hugging her curves in all the right places but, Nicole couldn’t help but wonder when she would’ve worn it last. 

Waverly straightened up and placed the pan atop the stove. The defined muscles on her exposed arms and shoulders caught Nicole’s attention as Waverly pulled off her oven mitt and switched off the oven, before turning around. 

“No, thank you though,” Waverly replied warmly, palms smoothing down her front.

Nicole’s hands followed the movement, mesmerized by how the late afternoon light rendered the skirt nearly translucent. 

“Actually, Nicole, sweetheart, could you get a bottle of wine from the cellar?” 

The gentleness with which Waverly employed the term of endearment wrenched Nicole’s focus upward; she forced her gaze past Waverly’s chest, wracking her brain for something she might have missed that warranted such ceremony. 

“Yeah, yes. Of course. Is this a special occasion?” 

Waverly ignored her question, turning her back to Nicole to return to the food prep. “Glasses are in the hutch in the dining room. Can you pour us each one?” 

Nicole’s eyes scanned all the skin revealed by the low back of the dress, exposing Waverly’s strong muscles rippling as she moved. 

“Y—yeah.” 

\--

Comfortably full from Waverly’s cooking and a dessert that had been hiding in the kitchen, Nicole sat in her usual spot, perched on the railing, watching the sunset. The empty rocking chair near her moved gently with the breeze. 

She had the presence of mind to notice the groan of the screen door opening and turned toward it to see Waverly. 

“Thank you,” Nicole murmured, taking the mug offered to her before Waverly eased down the stairs, sitting on the top step. 

Blowing on her steaming coffee, Nicole couldn’t help but notice how striking Waverly’s dress looked against the weathered wood around her. 

“You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, Nicole,” Waverly smiled, full and genuine, before reaching out to straighten Nicole’s hat. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

Waverly bent to sit down, and once again, Nicole was drawn in by all the skin on display. Her gaze moved from Waverly’s shoulders and down her back, to where the cut of the dress teased at what lay beneath. 

But Waverly turned, shifting all that exposed skin out of sight, and patted the space next to her, “Sit with me?” 

Nicole nodded, fumbling with her mug in her haste to set it aside and get up from her spot. Once the floorboards creaked under her feet, she picked up her coffee and settled down onto the top step beside Waverly. 

Though it seemed painfully longer, for the first time in a day, the silence that fell between them felt no different than any other day. And Nicole guessed she wasn’t the only one who sensed the return to normalcy, if the way Waverly’s head fell on her shoulder was any indication. 

Waverly’s warmth seeped through the cotton of Nicole’s shirt, and Nicole breathed easier with the gesture. The light at the horizon turned to deeper shades of orange and red. Once streaks of purple joined the array, Waverly shivered.

“Do you want a jacket?” Nicole asked, eyeing the goosebumps on Waverly’s arms. 

Waverly just shook her head, burrowing closer into Nicole. “Just let me steal some of your warmth.” 

Nicole lifted her arm, wrapping it around Waverly’s back, her hand finding purchase on Waverly’s silk-clad hip. She scooted closer, pulling Waverly tighter to her. She felt Waverly fidget, seeming to shift into a more comfortable spot. When Waverly failed to settle, Nicole looked over. 

“What’s wr—” 

The rest of her question was cut off by Waverly’s lips firmly pressing against her own. 

One of Waverly’s chilled hands slipped around Nicole’s neck, tugging her closer as she deepened the kiss. 

The electricity sparked from the multiple points of contact chased away any sleepiness that had settled in Nicole. She could taste coffee and the lingering traces of red wine on Waverly’s palate. 

With her attention consumed by Waverly, the only indication of the time that had passed and nightfall settled around them was the heat lightning flashing through her eyelids. 

Waverly abruptly pulled back and stood, taking one of Nicole’s hands with her. 

“Where are we goin’?” Nicole asked, caught in a haze of everything Waverly: her taste, her perfume, her skin beneath her fingertips. 

Waverly answered with one simple word: “Bed.” 

The sky lit up behind Nicole, but nothing could take her focus from Waverly at that moment. 

Nicole scrambled to her feet, and Waverly’s lips were on hers once more. 

They stumbled into the house and down the hallway, Waverly’s hands tugging Nicole’s shirt from her pants. But Nicole came to an abrupt halt when one of Waverly’s hands left her waist to reach for the bedroom door. 

“I—I’ve never…” 

Waverly smiled, pushing open the door. She reached out and squeezed Nicole’s hand before pulling her across the threshold. “That’s alright.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	7. Chapter 7

Nicole grumbled, flinging an arm out of the soft sheets to shield her eyes from the light, visible even through her eyelids. 

With a deep breath, Nicole breathed in everything that reminded her of Waverly. She smiled sleepily, images from last night flashing through her mind. The combination of soreness, traces of Waverly’s perfume all around her, her own warm skin, all but lulled her back to sleep.

Just before she could drift off again, her eyes bulged wide, noticing the bright morning sun streaming in through the gap in the curtains. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

She scrambled for her clothes strewn across the floor, mind numbly noticing that Waverly’s were already picked up. With her underwear, jeans, and undershirt on, Nicole’s hands fumbled to pull her belt through the loops, eyes searching for her hat instead of on the task at hand. With it nowhere in sight, she grumbled in defeat, leaving her belt unbuckled as she shrugged into her shirt and hurried out the door. 

She tripped over her boots, not seeing them in the dim hallway. With her shirt hanging open, she hopped down the hall, struggling to push her bare, and suddenly sweaty foot, into the leather. Nicole knew she would pay for that with blisters, but she wasn’t about to turn around, late as she was, imagining her socks might be just as MIA as her hat. 

Nicole managed to make it into the entry without toppling over and sighed in relief when she found her Stetson on a hook by the door. She picked it up with one hand and pushed out the screen door with the other. 

But it was quickly apparent that Waverly and her Jeep were both missing from the property. 

Nicole turned back inside, thoroughly confused, to find a note on the dining room table that Waverly had gone into town for the day. 

Anxiety flooded Nicole as she turned on her heel, heading back outside to get to work. 

\--

Even with her late start, Waverly still wasn’t back after Nicole finished up for the day. As the evening dragged on she grew more worried about Waverly disappearing from the farm. She cleaned up before making dinner for herself, anxiously looking over her shoulder for Waverly. 

It wasn’t until the sky had started to darken that the square headlights of Waverly’s Jeep appeared in the distance. 

Nicole wasn’t sure if she felt more relieved that Waverly finally made it home or worried about the long time away, but she found herself sliding off the railing and right onto the dirt in front of the porch. 

She waited until Waverly’s Jeep came to a stop to stride closer, lest she get run over by the speed at which Waverly tore down the driveway. 

That proved to be a wise choice, because there wasn’t any indication Waverly saw her in the fading light; even after the Jeep slammed to a stop, body rocking back and forth from the force of its abrupt halt. 

Nicole strode closer, watching as Waverly remained in the vehicle, head down. Her shoulders shook hard, the static of the radio carrying through the air without the top on. 

Nicole stilled, not wanting to intrude, but Waverly turned to her all the same, tears streaming down her face. 

Any worry that Nicole was the source of Waverly’s tears dissipated at the way Waverly’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. Waverly frantically wiped at her face, before tilting her head with a forced smile to lure Nicole closer. 

Nicole opened the passenger door, and Waverly punched a button on the dash, killing the static hum from the speakers. Nicole eased into the seat, forcing her attention straight ahead while Waverly wiped at her eyes again. 

“Do you, uh, do you need me to unload anything?” Nicole asked, peering into the backseat to find it empty. 

The question startled Waverly as she turned to look behind her seat too. 

Their eyes met over the center console, and Waverly asked, “No, why would you think that?” 

“Your note said you went into town...I assumed you had errands to run?” 

“Oh! Well. Yes. But no.” Waverly turned abruptly, settling back into her seat and facing toward the wheel again. “I was in town, but mostly I just...drove.” 

Nicole let her temple fall against the headrest as she looked at Waverly. “Oh.” 

“I’m sorry I...took off,” Waverly began, picking at her fingernails. 

Nicole finally voiced the question that lingered in her mind all day. “Did I upset you?” 

“No,” Waverly assured, but her focus was still resolutely on the hangnails she was creating. 

“Do you regret what...I mean, last night?” 

Nicole winced at the directness of her question, but it brought Waverly’s eyes back around. 

“Oh, Nicole, no.” Waverly reached across the console, running her hand along Nicole’s jaw. “Can I—can I show you something?” 

Nicole nodded, feeling her skin flush under Waverly’s touch. 

Waverly leaned forward, placing a peck to Nicole’s lips before leaning back and fumbling for the key, still in the ignition. 

The engine rumbled to life and they took off towards the fields. For a second, Nicole thought Waverly was taking her back to the stretch of barbed wire she’d repaired the other day, but they continued past it, the fenceline acting like a distant guard rail, a few feet outside of Nicole’s window, its condition progressively worse the longer they drove.

Nicole grew confused as her eyes scanned increasingly rotten posts, each one in worse shape until the Jeep came to a stop next to a fallen post. She looked at the driver’s seat, ready to ask a question, but found it empty. Waverly was already out of the Jeep and slamming the door closed. 

Nicole scrambled out of the Jeep and followed Waverly to the fenceline. The headlights illuminated the scene in front of her. Nicole walked to the fallen post, squinting in the limited light and crouching carefully to better examine where it had broken from its base. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to fix this?” she asked over her shoulder. 

But Waverly wasn’t there. 

Instead, she was marching over to the next fallen post. Nicole eyed the way Waverly’s shoulders shook again as she hunched in on herself, bending down to gently run her hand across the next fallen post. She stayed there, shaking her head, before she finally swiped at her face again, rising to walk back towards the Jeep. 

Waverly came to a stop, positioned almost perfectly between the two downed posts, and beckoned Nicole closer. 

“This is where they found him.” Waverly’s lips were tight, her gaze averted and her throat working.

In profile, the tears caught on Waverly’s eyelashes, glimmering in the reflection of the headlights.

“Champ?” Nicole asked gently. 

Waverly nodded, face scrunched up as she fought against her grief. 

Nicole followed Waverly’s vision, looking across the fields, eerie and ominous in the dark, and wondered once again about whose property ran up against Waverly’s farm. 

“He and I...well...he’d sort of been... _ gone _ , at least...in some ways, for a long time before he died.” 

Nicole squinted at the vagueness of the statement. “What do you mean?” 

“This is, or  **_was_ ** , Jimmy’s land,” Waverly huffed. “It was a wedding gift to Champ, so we could build a house, have a place to call home when Champ wasn’t on the circuit. Jimmy would continue to tend to the acreage and, once Champ retired, he’d have some land to work for ourselves. 

“But, as Jimmy so _eloquently_ put it, he saw me as a **_curse_** on Champ’s life. In his first ride after our honeymoon, he tore up his back and shoulder so bad he’d never ride again. We started building our own farm sooner than anyone expected. The only thing Champ wanted more than belt buckles was kids. He never said it, but I think he so desperately wanted to be the dad his own father never was to him.” 

Waverly choked on her words, tears flowing freely once again. 

When Waverly found her voice again, she continued, “I don’t know if it was him or me, but we couldn’t make it happen. After the second miscarriage, I kept trying to talk Champ into going to a doctor with me, so we could  _ know _ , for sure. But Champ’s mind was made up. His body had failed him once, and he was sure it was failing him again. I—I don’t think he was the issue though.” 

Nicole closed the little distance between them, turning her back to the neighboring property to pull Waverly into her arms. Her mouth moved helplessly, no words of comfort seemed like they could make any small dent in Waverly’s multitude of grief. But when Waverly wrapped her arms around Nicole, hands desperately clutching the back of her shirt, she managed a few, insignificant ones. 

“I’m  _ so _ sorry, Waverly.” 

Through her sobs, Waverly shook her head, her whole body swaying with the movement. There wasn’t anything else she could do, except hold Waverly tighter until her frantic breath evened out. 

“It’s okay, it is,” Waverly said, the waver in her voice flying in the face of that. “I’ve made my peace with it…mostly. It doesn’t…it doesn’t usually linger in my head like it has lately.” 

“Why do you think it’s there now?” 

“I’m not…I’m not  _ old _ , but sometimes I’m around you, and I forget that…I’m not exactly  _ young  _ anymore either.” Waverly didn’t meet Nicole’s eyes as she stammered, “I—it’s dumb, s—stupid really, but you said I wasn’t your mom and I’m  _ not _ . I have no desire to be...but...I’ll never be…anyone’s.” 

Nicole’s stomach clenched. She took an involuntary step back, her guilt increasing as Waverly staggered against the loss of support, barely regaining her balance in the dark to remain upright. 

“W—Waverly, I didn’t—I wouldn’t have…if I  _ knew _ —” 

Waverly shook her head, not wanting any of her apology. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. How could you have?” 

Guilt still bubbled, toxic in Nicole’s stomach. She pulled Waverly closer, running her hands through her long hair. A question lingered in her mind about the way Waverly framed her story. 

“Did  _ you  _ want kids?” Nicole asked. 

She felt Waverly twitch against her before she answered hollowly. “I don’t know.” 

Nicole hummed, not expecting anything more than that, but she was surprised when Waverly continued. 

“That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? Saying it aloud…I never did before…” 

Given their proximity, Nicole could feel the deep, failed-attempt at a steadying breath that Waverly drew in. 

“I had never known any better. I just assumed it was a part of life, and maybe it didn’t happen because I took it for granted? Did I want it? Yes, but more because I wanted it for  _ us _ , for Champ and me, because he wanted it so badly. He was everything to me, for me, and that I couldn’t help him…it eats me alive some days…” 

Waverly trailed off before hugging Nicole tighter. “It’s probably hard for you to understand, but thank you for listening.” 

“I mean, I get it a little? I’ve lost people I’ve loved too. They never really leave us, do they?” 

Waverly shook her head. 

Nicole swallowed before continuing. “It’s hard…but I think it’s kind of sweet too? That they’ve left so much of an impact. That they’re not forgotten?” 

She felt Waverly chuckle against her chest. “Sometimes I’d like to remember a little less, to be honest.” After a deep breath, Waverly stepped away, wiping at her face. “You’re right though.” 

After one long, lingering look at the broken fence posts, Waverly turned back toward Nicole, taking her hand. “Drive me home, cowboy?” 

“Of course.” 

Nicole opened Waverly’s door for her and closed it, before climbing into the driver’s side, knees hitting the steering wheel. Her fingers fumbled for the key in the dark, still in the ignition. Once the engine turned over, Waverly’s hand was on her’s, linking their fingers before it had a chance to go anywhere else. 

The drive was quiet behind the rumble of the engine and the wind in Nicole’s ears. When she came to a stop in the Jeep’s usual spot, Waverly’s grip loosened, but Nicole reached back for her. 

“Wait?” 

Waverly nodded. Nicole shifted into park and killed the engine before looking back at the passenger seat. The dusk-to-dawn light flickered in the darkness, once again highlighting the gray strands in Waverly’s hair. It seemed like there were more than before, and Nicole wondered if that was a recent development or if she was imagining it after their earlier conversation. 

It didn’t matter, because Waverly looked as beautiful as ever, and Nicole’s heart raced as she struggled to voice the question in her mind. 

“Do—do you think...you could love someone like that again? Like you loved Champ?” 

Waverly’s features softened and she reached across the console, a cold hand curling around Nicole’s cheek. “For the longest time, I didn’t think so. I thought we all get one person and Champ was mine.” 

Nicole’s face fell but it was gently lifted back to eyelevel by Waverly. “But.  _ Lately _ . I’ve been thinking differently. That I’d be fortunate if I got to love someone like that again.” 

Nicole nodded slowly, hope billowing in her chest. Waverly’s hand shivered against her cheek, and she gently took between her own, rubbing it to coax some warmth into her fingers. 

“ _ They’d  _ be fortunate…to have you.” 

Waverly looked away, “Maybe.” 

The breeze picked up, and Waverly shivered again. 

“Want to go inside?” Nicole asked. 

Waverly smirked before she replied. “Only if you’ll warm me up?” 

\--

The next morning, Nicole stirred to the rustling of clothes. 

In the darkness, it took her eyes a moment to adjust and find Waverly. Her back was to Nicole as she fastened her jeans, before reaching for a shirt. 

Nicole yawned, rubbing at her eyes. “Could’ve woken me up.” 

She startled Waverly, her arm missing the hole for the sleeve of her shirt. 

“Jesus,” Waverly gasped, turning around. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head before continuing to dress. “Go back to sleep, I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re up.” 

But Nicole pulled back the covers with one hand, still rubbing sleep from her eyes with the other. “You’re always up at this time, I might as well be too.” 

“Okay, if you’re sure…” Waverly trailed off, seeming frazzled by this turn of events as she buttoned up her shirt unevenly. “What do you want? I’ve never asked what you like in the morning, did I? Shoot, I’m so—” 

Nicole cut off her apology with a kiss, surprised to find herself so quickly on her feet and in Waverly’s space. Waverly’s nervous energy simultaneously triggered a calm within herself and woke her up more effectively than coffee ever had. 

Pulling back and finally seeing a soft grin on Waverly’s face, Nicole replied, “Whatever you’re having is fine.” 

Waverly’s hands had dropped from her shirt, and Nicole’s took their place, unbuttoning it. 

“I need to get ready, get moving,” Waverly protested, but there was a breathless note in her voice, giving away that she might be content with staying right there. 

“I know. I’m helping.” Nicole nodded toward the last misaligned button before meeting Waverly’s eyes with a smile. 

Waverly looked down and laughed breathily as Nicole pushed the button through the gap in the fabric. 

But she huffed impatiently when Nicole started at the bottom, re-buttoning the shirt correctly. 

Waverly squirmed, as Nicole took her time, leaving the top two undone. Nicole’s hands reluctantly fell from the shirt, and Waverly placed a peck to her lips before turning on her heel and wordlessly leaving the room. 

Though there was the added benefit of enjoying coffee and breakfast with company, Nicole had a slightly ulterior motive for following Waverly’s early start. 

They went their separate ways once they stepped outside, moving like clockwork through their respective chores. Despite the lack of sleep last night and into this morning, Nicole had an energy, a drive that wasn’t just a residual high from pleasing Waverly. 

It was barely mid-day when she wrapped up her usual tasks and turned her attention to the section of fence that was in dire need of repair. 

She set out there in the hopes that the disappearance of both her and the tractor would go unnoticed by Waverly. But Nicole wasn’t out there more than an hour, sweating under the hot sun, before Waverly showed up in her Jeep. 

Waverly didn’t say a word, just watched and drove around her restlessly, eyes flashing viciously to the land beyond the fenceline. Nicole couldn’t help but feel like prey being circled by a vulture in the sky. 

It was a test of Nicole’s focus, as she continued steadily along on her task, setting the new posts. 

She’d just started to string up the barbed wire when the tractor started up, startling her; her forearm scraped painfully against a barb. 

She swore, turning toward the noise, seeing the Wrangler parked next to where she had left the tractor, and Waverly steering the tractor back toward the barn. 

Nicole shook her head, sweat spraying and blood dripping to the ground with her movements, before picking up where she left off. 

Waverly returned, walking through the fields, still in her work clothes, just as Nicole was finishing up. 

Nicole could practically feel the anger rolling off of Waverly, even before she dropped her tools into the back of the Jeep and settled in the passenger seat. But she waited, hoping some of it would be carried away as they drove. 

They were halfway back to the house before Waverly snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone out there by yourself.” 

“Why not? It needed fixed, didn’t it?” 

Waverly just shook her head, but Nicole felt the Jeep speed up, the momentum simultaneously throwing her back into her seat and jostling her as the Jeep moved onto less even terrain. 

Only the wind rushing past the Jeep cut through the heavy silence between them, and Nicole knew she wouldn’t get any answers out of Waverly while she was in this attempted-stoic state, so she waited. 

It wasn’t until after dinner, when Waverly marched on to the porch with a comb and a pair of shears in one hand and a plastic tablecloth draped over her arm, that Nicole had her chance. 

“What’s all that for?” Nicole asked. 

“You wanted a haircut, didn’t you? Grab one of the chairs from the dining room, you’re too tall for me to reach up there.” 

Nicole was hesitant to move from her spot. “Have you, um, done this before?” 

Waverly shrugged, depositing the tablecloth on the railing and setting the shears on top. “I always cut Champ’s hair. And I’ve sheared the sheep. How different can it be, really?” 

Nicole stammered her reservations, but Waverly had already retreated back inside the house, returning with a chair before the screen door could slam shut. 

“Sit,” Waverly ordered, returning to her supplies. 

Nicole slid from the railing, not sure she wanted Waverly near her head with shears after witnessing her earlier anger. “Why the urgency tonight?” 

“It’s the only night you didn’t pull your hair back after washing it,” Waverly stated, wrapping the tablecloth around Nicole’s shoulders the second she sat down. “Hold that there. Unless you want hair everywhere.” 

Nicole did as instructed, but shrugged. “I don’t mind.” 

“Hmm,” Waverly hummed. “You say that now.” 

Waverly continued to hum as she worked, some song Nicole often heard on the radio in the kitchen but didn’t otherwise recognize. Though Nicole didn’t want to distract Waverly from the task at hand, she found herself tempted to take advantage of the good mood to ask a question that she was sure Waverly wouldn’t appreciate. 

“You said a while back, you don’t want your neighbors to know if you make money off your land or not…it’s just one, right? Jimmy?” 

The teeth of the comb jerked painfully into Nicole’s scalp at the question, and Nicole was grateful she had picked a moment when Waverly wasn’t snipping away to speak up. 

“Yes,” Waverly answered tersely. 

Nicole fidgeted with the confirmation, and the hair that Waverly had pulled between her fingers fell back to Nicole’s head.

“Sit still,” Waverly ordered. “Or it  _ will _ look like I’ve never done this before.” 

Though her concern grew, for both her head and Waverly, Nicole bit her tongue until Waverly was finished and had traded the shears for a broom to sweep the cut-off hair off the porch. 

“Do you like it?” Waverly asked, not looking up as Nicole returned to the porch, hat in her hand and keys in her pocket, after checking out Waverly’s handiwork in the mirror. 

Her hair now hung a little past her chin, and she felt freer without the weight of it falling well past her shoulders. 

“I do, thank you, Waverly.” 

Nicole pressed a kiss to Waverly’s cheek before hurrying down the stairs and placing her hat on her head. 

That stopped Waverly in her tracks. “Where are you going?” 

Nicole licked her lips, knowing Waverly wouldn’t like her answer, but she stood tall in the face of the narrowed eyes looking back at her. “I’m gonna have a… _ word _ … with Jimmy.” 

Waverly rolled her eyes before she resumed sweeping. “No, you’re not. Come back up here, I’ll make some coffee.” 

“No, he can’t treat you like that. It ain’t right.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Waverly huffed. “But the last thing I need is you involved too.” 

Nicole ignored the comment, continuing toward her truck. 

“Oh, come on, Nicole!” Waverly called, and Nicole could hear her stomping down the stairs. “What are you even going to say to him?” 

Nicole stopped at that because she honestly didn’t know. What could she say that a sawed-off shotgun hadn’t already? 

“I’ll—I’ll figure it out on the way,” she nodded to herself, content with her plan and taking another step forward, but she found Waverly blocking her path. 

Nicole stepped to the side to walk around Waverly, but strong hands pressed against her shoulders stopped her and narrowed eyes glared back at her. 

“I mean it, Nicole, stay out of this. It’s not  _ any  _ of your business.” 

_ You are my business _ was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. Whatever they were,  _ if _ anything, two nights in Waverly’s bed weren’t enough for her to go fighting Waverly’s battles for her. Even if she wanted to. 

“I don’t like it,” Nicole whined. 

“I don’t like it either,” Waverly agreed, her tension fading at Nicole’s resignation. “But, I appreciate you sticking up for me. I really do.” 

“Yeah?” Nicole asked, watching as Waverly’s hands slid slowly down her sides. 

“Mm-hmm,” Waverly hummed, fingers curling in her belt as she looked up. 

“I’d do a lot of things to you. Uh,  _ for _ you.” 

Waverly smirked, pulling her back toward the house by her belt, “You can do both.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	8. Chapter 8

“How’d you learn how to do...all this?” Waverly asked, vaguely pointing towards the fields. 

They were on the porch, seated side-by-side on the top step after dinner. The question pulled Nicole from day-dreaming about being in Waverly’s bed later abruptly back to the present moment. 

Nicole licked her lips before she answered, choosing her words carefully. “My aunt and uncle had a _big_ farm, passed down from my grandparents. They had eight kids, but at certain times of year even that wasn’t enough. It was a sort of all hands on deck situation. I’d get pulled out of school, and my dad and I would go up there and help out.” 

She cursed herself for bringing up her parents. Anytime Waverly had asked about them, she had carefully changed the subject. And luckily, Waverly didn’t press that detail. For now. 

“Is this the aunt that used to braid your hair?” Waverly asked, running a gentle hand through Nicole’s newly shortened locks that stuck out beneath her hat. 

Nicole’s eyes slipped closed, soaking in the comfort from the gesture. “She was.” 

Waverly stilled. “Was?” 

Nicole nodded slowly, fighting the urge to steer away from this topic too. Waverly had shared with her...it was her turn to finally share herself. 

She wasn’t sure how long silence lingered between them as she contemplated how to explain the events that felt like a lifetime ago, but Waverly’s nimble fingers had worked their way down Nicole’s neck to her shoulders, soothing in her every touch. 

“My aunt and uncle were...more parental figures in my life than my mom and dad. They actually _cared_.” 

Nicole’s voice broke on that word, and the tightness that had formed in her chest gave way the second that tears slipped from her eyes. But she licked her lips and carried on, voice flat as she fought to keep herself in check. Or close to it. She pulled her hat from her head. 

“My aunt died when I was 13. Put her hand in a part of machinery she shouldn’t have. Being as far out as their farm was, she bled out before they could get her any help.” 

Waverly nodded knowingly as Nicole plowed on. “We went out there for the funeral, and my uncle dropped dead two hours after they buried her. No clear cause, they said his heart just...stopped. Nothin’ wrong with it. But he loved my aunt so much...I don’t think he could bear to be without her.” 

“What happened to the farm after that?” 

Nicole sighed, placing her head back atop her head. “Dale, my oldest cousin, took over. And suddenly he didn’t need any help from me or dad. I don’t blame him for not wanting my father around, he never did much ‘cept complain. But I called and called. Practically _begging_ him to let me come back and help. Dad didn’t care that he wasn’t asked back, just said Dale had too much pride.” 

Waverly’s fingers continued their path, working their way down her arm, trailing across her bicep to her forearm. 

“So, that’s how I learned it all. My aunt and uncle deserve all the credit.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet them,” Waverly replied. “They sound like good people.” 

“The _best_ ,” Nicole nodded, swiping at her damp face. 

“You don’t talk about your parents much,” Waverly stated, and Nicole froze; Waverly’s hand slid the rest of the way down her arm, her fingers curling between Nicole’s. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is... _if_ you want to share...I’m here.” 

Waverly pecked her cheek, and the contact alone doused the tension that built upon the mention of her parents. 

Nicole turned, meeting Waverly’s lips before she could pull too far away. When they broke for air, Nicole whispered, “I know,” before surging forward again. 

\--

July 1st came and went without any more conversations between her and Waverly about college. Or her and Shae for that matter. 

Nicole didn’t think much of it, the date passing on the calendar barely standing out in relation to any other since her mind was long ago made up. 

Until the end of the first full week in July, she walked into the dining room one evening to find a letter at her spot, emblazoned with that same damn seal. 

She swiped it off the table, before stomping into the kitchen. 

“Seriously, Waverly. I told you—” 

She was cut off by wine covered lips pushing her back into the dining room. 

“I thought we could celebrate,” Waverly replied breathlessly, the second she pulled back. 

Nicole’s brain was a fog from the feelings Waverly’s kiss stirred inside her. She shook it to clear it before stammering, “C—celebrate?” 

“You sent in that deposit, right? That’s what that letter’s about! Oooh! Open it now, it probably has what courses you’ll be taking, where you’ll be living!” 

Nicole stepped back, repeating Waverly’s words in her head to make sure she had heard correctly. She shook her head, the echo only infuriating her more. 

“You’re—you’re joking, right? I _told_ you I wasn’t going.” 

Waverly’s face fell. “Oh. I didn’t think...I thought you needed to think it over more. I didn’t want to bring it up because, well...last time…” 

Waverly trailed off, and Nicole felt Waverly might as well have kicked her in the stomach instead of the vague reminder of how her careless comment had hurt Waverly in ways she wouldn’t have imagined. 

“But...but then this came,” Waverly seemed to be grasping at straws, pointing a finger at the letter crushed between Nicole’s fist. “And I thought you had.” 

Nicole shook her head, disbelieving that Waverly could _really_ think she would’ve changed her mind. 

“Then what are they writing to you for?” 

Following Waverly’s gaze to her hand, Nicole forced her fingers open, allowing the letter to bounce back, stretching as flat as it would go to lay in her palm. 

With a glance at the shiny red shield standing out in sharp contrast to the white paper, anger coursed through her. She shifted it, grasping the envelope between the side of her pointer finger and thumb and flicked her wrist, slinging it like a frisbee in Waverly’s direction. 

“I don’t care, open it if you’re so curious,” she spat.

Nicole stomped past her and out of the room, not stopping until the front door and porch separated her from Waverly. 

She paced across the driveway, boots scuffling across the dirt and kicking up clouds in her wake. 

Only the crack of the screen door could pull her from her musings, and she fought the urge to turn towards Waverly. 

“Nic—Nicole, you, you need to read this.”

She turned to see Waverly on the steps, hand with the letter outstretched towards her and face unreadable. 

Cursing to herself, Nicole strode forward, pulling the paper from Waverly. Her eyes combed the words typed across the page. Her anger surged at “extension and discount” on her deposit, a scholarship that Shae and the admissions counselor had written recommendation letters for, and reduced tuition based on “financial hardship.” 

When her eyes reached the counselor’s neatly penned signature at the bottom, she crumpled up the paper. She turned, pulling her entire weight behind the throw as she chucked the balled-up letter at the barn. 

“What are you doing?!” Waverly exclaimed, chasing down the letter that, in her frustration, had ended up well short. 

“I ain’t goin’,” Nicole huffed. 

Waverly didn’t reply until she had turned back and stepped into Nicole’s space, the smoothed-out letter held at her side. 

“What do you mean? This is an _incredible_ opportunity.” 

“Maybe for you or someone else, but not for me.” 

Nicole swore under her breath before turning, stepping away from Waverly with her hands on her hips. “Even if I did, I don’t need a fucking handout. _Financial hardship_ , my ass. I have a _job_ . I have a _car_. I can take care of myself.” 

She waved widely at her truck as if to prove her point. But all her frantic energy couldn’t rattle Waverly’s calm. 

“This isn’t a handout, Nicole. They’re trying to help, can’t you see that?” 

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.” 

“Oookay…” Waverly trailed off. “Then...what are you going to do, come August? After you leave here?” 

Nicole kicked at the dirt, anger fading to nerves. She had thought about this conversation...a little too often in the quiet of the night with a sleeping Waverly in her arms, if she was being honest. And for all the circumstances she had thought through, all the ways she envisioned going about it, she couldn’t have seen it unfolding this way. 

“I—I thought...or I was thinkin’...” she trailed off, rubbing at the back of her neck. “... _maybe_ …” 

Waverly’s eyes bulged in realization before Nicole could finish her stumbling, bumbling thought. 

If Waverly hadn’t shook her head, willing aside the soft look in her eyes, Nicole might’ve thought she imagined it, or it had been a trick of the late afternoon sun bouncing off the hood of her Bronco. That brief window into Waverly’s true reaction was replaced with a stubborn fury Nicole hadn’t _yet_ been on the receiving end of. 

Nicole pleaded her case, “It’s too soon, I know, but I—” 

Waverly interjected, waving the letter in the air, “You’re not giving this up, not for _me_ , Nicole. This is too much to pass up.” 

“But—” 

“No, ‘but’s, Nicole. If you’re going to waste this...this _gift_ , I’m not going to be a part of it.” 

Waverly turned, setting the letter gingerly on the railing. But the dull thud of her feet stomping across the boards echoed through the still air around them. 

\--

Nicole hugged her knees tighter to her, curling further in on herself atop the railing. 

The sun had all but vanished beneath the horizon, leaving streaks of orange, pink, and purple behind. But Nicole was missing it all. 

Instead, as it had been for the past hour, her focus was resolute on the patch of floorboards at the top of the steps. 

Waverly wasn’t there tonight and hadn’t been for almost a week, but the memories of her head on Nicole’s shoulder, her lips feverishly meeting Nicole’s, all clouded that spot as thickly as if Waverly was there herself. 

Though Nicole desperately wished she had Waverly’s company tonight, here on the porch, she knew it would just result in another fight. Or the same argument rather, over Nicole’s future, that they had day-in, day-out since that damn letter came. 

The warm breeze rippled across her skin, and Nicole finally looked up, across the fields. She wasn’t sure if it was this place or Waverly herself, but nowhere had felt more like home. Not even her aunt and uncle’s farm, and she had spent _years_ working that land. 

How could she just leave? 

Nicole nodded to herself before resting her chin against her knees. It wasn’t nearly the same, she had been here for weeks and Waverly years, but Nicole felt she finally understood why Waverly was reluctant to leave after Champ died. 

She looked out across the fields. The growth of the wheat since she arrived was a painful reminder that her stay here was more than halfway over. 

That knowledge, coupled with the building stress the past few days and uncertainty over where she would go after this, was too much. Feeling hot tears slip from her eyes, Nicole hopped up from the railing as if it burned her. The sound from her jeans grating against the grain of the wood carried across the vast emptiness. 

She pulled her hat from her head and swiped the tears from her face with her arm, under the guise of wiping sweat from her brow, lest Waverly see her through a window. 

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she paced, from one end of the porch to the other, bouncing her hat against the outside of her thigh. The movement, contrasting to the state of helplessness that she felt, did nothing to soothe her. 

Nicole felt cornered, like she had no choice but give in to what everyone, Shae, this stupid school, Waverly, was telling her to do. Now this long bout with Waverly had drained her of all her energy. 

The fight in her was fading faster than the sunlight. She stopped, body sagging as she ran a hand through her hair before placing her hat back atop her head. With a deep breath to push aside her pride and resign herself to her fate, Nicole turned toward the door. The only thing powering Nicole through was the small sliver of hope that Waverly might change her mind as Nicole’s departure drew closer. 

The groan of the door opening echoed eerily through the entry. Moving on autopilot, Nicole toed off her boots and hung her hat on its hook before moving toward the living room. 

She stopped in the open doorway, unsure how to enter without startling Waverly. She was hunched over her desk in the corner, and her pen moved quickly across the page, but the lines on her face were relaxed. The juxtaposition of Waverly’s at ease body language and the pace at which her hand scrawled undercut Nicole’s recently found resolve. 

Nicole leaned against the doorframe, clinging to the possibility that just _maybe_ there was something in her, something just as endearing, that would help Waverly see that all Nicole wanted was to stay right here. 

A smile tugged at the corners of Waverly’s lips, as if she was amused by her own words. She shook her head at herself, and the movement just enough to put Nicole in her peripheral vision. 

Nicole held up her hands as surprise rippled across Waverly’s face, her pen skidding across the page and out of her hand. 

“I’m sorry! I should’ve knocked or—or something!” Nicole stammered. 

Waverly’s hand went to her heart, and she didn’t even seem to realize she lost her pen. But her smile grew, not at all helping the hope Nicole had latched onto desperately as if it was a life preserver and the only thing keeping her head above water. 

Waverly beckoned her closer. “It’s okay. Did you need something?”

Nicole rubbed at the back of her neck before stepping into the room, “Yeah, I, uh, kind of need your, um, help.” 

Waverly’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she nodded toward a chair. “Sit.” 

Nicole shuffled forward, doing as she was told and easing onto the edge of the seat. Looking down at her knees, she took a deep breath before finally meeting Waverly’s eyes, her stern, but confused, gaze inviting her to continue. 

“I, um, I want to send in that deposit, but—” 

The squeal from Waverly drowned out her last word. She bounced from her seat, hands tugging at Nicole to coax her to her feet in celebration. But Nicole resisted, unyielding like an anchor and remaining firmly in her spot. 

“ _But_ ,” Nicole repeated firmly. 

Waverly stilled at that, dropping her hand. “But? What do you need? I’ll do anything to help you with that.” 

Nicole’s eyes slipped closed, heart-clenching with the wish Waverly could’ve been just as enthusiastic about her wanting to stay here. 

“ _Oh_. Do you need…” Waverly trailed off, and the change in her tone was enough for Nicole’s eyes to snap open. Waverly’s eyes were shining with sympathy before she added softly, “...money?” 

Nicole was on her feet before she knew it, backing towards the door and biting her lip to keep her tone in check before she spoke. “ _I have money_.” 

“Oh,” Waverly’s eyes narrowed again, arms crossing in her confusion. “Then what is it?” 

Nicole shook her head, trying to shake her frustration too. “Can you…they need—they need a _check_. I have cash. Plenty of it. But I don’t think I can just send that,” she rambled, a sweaty hand running through her hair and getting caught. “Can you write out a check, and I’ll give you the money?” 

The knowing smirk on Waverly’s lips didn’t help. 

“Did you hurt yourself asking that, cowboy?” 

Nicole shrugged, half-wishing Waverly would say no. 

Waverly turned back to her desk and opened a drawer. “Of course, I’ll help you with that. Now, sit! Comfortably this time.” 

Warily, Nicole took a step back towards her chair. By the time Waverly had dug her checkbook out of the back of her overflowing drawer, Nicole had settled rigidly into the chair, back of her shirt barely brushing against the cushion. 

She waited anxiously, socked foot tapping against the floor as Waverly signed the check and gingerly tore it out. 

With a last look at the small rectangle piece of paper, in her hand, Waverly turned toward Nicole, eyes crinkling. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

The simple, blunt, honesty in Waverly’s tone made Nicole want to leap out of her seat and rip that check to shreds. 

With her attention focused on that one-way ticket away from the farm, Nicole missed Waverly closing the distance between them. It took Waverly’s lips firmly meeting her own for her to tear her gaze away. 

Waverly’s palm was hot on the back of her neck as she pulled Nicole closer, the kiss deepening. 

Though Nicole longed to give in to and reach for the comfort she had craved these past few days, she forced herself back out of this almost-spell Waverly had her under; surely going to break in a few weeks whether Nicole wanted it to or not. 

Nicole swallowed thickly, finally meeting Waverly’s eyes. “We’re not fighting? Anymore?” 

“I think we’ve got some making up to do.” 

\--

The tension dissipated between them like it was never even there. Her elation for being back in Waverly’s good graces, and Waverly’s bed, couldn’t even be brought down by a quick response from the university, her natural last day of work at Waverly’s leaving just enough time for her to drive to the campus in time for her freshman orientation—though she didn’t doubt Waverly would kick her off the farm early if needed. 

She and Waverly grew closer and closer, while Nicole tried to ignore the calendar on the wall. 

One afternoon, Nicole pushed the empty wheelbarrow into the barn and deposited it in its spot. She was halfway out the door when she heard a faint rustling behind her left shoulder. 

She froze, sure it was late enough that Waverly wouldn’t be still out. The air was quiet, and she was of half a mind she imagined it, wind playing tricks on her as it carried across the fields, when she heard it again, like canvas flapping in a breeze. 

Nicole turned around, taking two steps in the direction of the noise, calling, “Hey Waverly! You need a hand with somethin’?”

There was a dull thud and a “shit” in a vaguely familiar voice, too deep to be Waverly’s. 

She hurried toward the sound, pulling her pistol from the waistband of her pants. 

The clouds outside moved just enough for the sunlight to carry through a crack in the wall, light bouncing off the uncovered hood of Champ’s truck. 

Nicole sighed when she found the source of the noise, aiming her gun at the intruder. 

“You know I can see you, right?” she called, stepping closer to Jimmy, who was failing to hide himself behind a support post. 

He grumbled, stepping out from his hiding spot, and Nicole saw he was covered in the dust that had previously settled atop the tarp. 

“Just here for my truck,” Jimmy drawled, pointing his thumb in its direction. 

“If it’s yours, then why are you sneakin’ around?” 

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that, instead pulling a ring of keys from his pocket. “How else would I have these?” 

Nicole eyed the Flounder keychain that hung from it. She knew it was Waverly’s, and the shock of realization caused her to drop the nose of her pistol just the slightest bit.

Her voice was low, clipped with barely-in-check anger, as she asked a question she already knew the answer to: “Where did you get those?” 

Jimmy’s stammered lies weren’t audible over the blood pounding in Nicole’s ears. She was propelled forward by her anger, knowing this idiot was sneaking around Waverly’s house while they were out working. 

Nicole took her chance when Jimmy turned back to the truck, pointing at the wheels while he continued to speak. Tucking her gun back into her waistband, she moved closer, catching a strong whiff of cheap beer when he turned back around, just in time for her fist to collide with his cheek.

Jimmy toppled to the barn floor in a heap, and Nicole shook out her hand, hissing at the pain in her knuckles. 

The light caught on the keys, dropped from Jimmy’s hand as he fell, and Nicole hastily scooped them up with her left hand and shoved them in her pocket. 

While Jimmy stumbled to his feet, she drew her pistol again, her fingers protesting at the movement, already stiff. 

“Leave,” she snarled, the gun following his movements. 

He pushed his hair back before nodding slowly and taking one step back. 

“I didn’t forget about what you did to my truck,” he fumed. “It’d be a shame if something were to happen to that Bronco out there too.” 

He turned and slunk out of the barn, Nicole waiting a second before hurrying after him, worried he’d even look at her truck. 

But he took off in the opposite direction, away from the driveway and through the fields. Nicole watched him go, torn between making sure he walked out of sight, and checking on Waverly. Only once he was a speck in the distance did she back away, before turning on her heel and jogging into the house. 

Nicole crossed the threshold, the sounds of Waverly in the kitchen singing along to the static of the radio carrying through the house. She quietly toed off her boots before pulling the keys from her pocket. Nicole ran her thumb over one of Flounder’s fins on the keychain as she pondered telling Waverly what had happened. 

_The last thing I need is you involved too._

Those words echoed through her mind, holding her in place just as firmly as Waverly’s hands had on her shoulders. 

_Too late now,_ she thought cryptically, weighing Waverly’s keys in the palm of her hand. 

What happened in the barn would only upset Waverly…and who knew how she’d handle the knowledge that Jimmy had been inside the house. 

That fact sat uneasily in Nicole’s stomach. If he did it once, surely he’d do it again? 

She shook her head. Jimmy had been caught, and even he wasn’t stupid enough to try that twice, was he? 

Waverly had already been through enough torment from her father-in-law, and with the happy singing echoing through the house, Nicole couldn’t bring herself to burst that bubble. 

Swallowing the remnants of her worries, Nicole’s hand curled around Waverly’s keys. She crept through the house, returning Waverly’s keys to the drawer where she always kept them before heading toward the shower. 

_— 2004 —_

As she drove, the passing wheat fields did little to distract her from wondering if this was the right decision or if she should let the mistakes she made lie. The stalks taunted her as they moved back-and-forth in the breeze, just as indecisive as she felt. 

It was a relief when the old, rundown 24/7 diner came into view. Many of the businesses along this route had shuttered doors, and Nicole didn’t want to spend another night holed up on the shoulder if she could avoid it. 

Heaviness had just started to settle in her eyes, a sign she had another hour or two in her, but if she kept going, the shoulder would likely be her fate. 

She pulled her truck into the parking lot, picking a spot near the back. The flicker of the neon sign was just barely visible with a bit of daylight remaining. As Nicole placed her hat on her head and climbed out of her truck, she knew once it fell dark those lights would flicker through her eyelids, preventing her from drifting off too fully. 

Once inside, Nicole kept to herself, eating her dinner and nursing a beer at the far end of the counter, before retreating back to her truck for the night. 

She settled in the cargo area of her Bronco, pistol within reach and sprawled out on a thin bedroll. Before she closed her eyes for the night, she dug into her bag, pulling out the one thing that gave her hope that she was on the right path, in spite of all the time that had passed. 

The envelope had yellowed with time, and the ink that penned out her old college address had faded but, in spite of the small tears, the paper had protected one of her most precious possessions. 

She gingerly pulled out the letter, careful to unfold it so the paper didn’t wear anymore than it already had, thin slits having formed where it folded. 

\--

_Dear Nicole,_

_I know you’ve been calling and I’m deeply sorry I haven’t answered. It’s simply too hard to hear your voice._

_I’m hopeful it will pass in time. Please still write to me? I want to hear how your courses are going—I’m sure you’re learning so much— and how you’re doing at the university._

_I_ _know_ _in my heart you made the right decision, but it doesn’t make being apart from you any easier._

_I miss you._

_-Waverly_

_\--_

Nicole didn’t reply. She couldn’t bring herself to. 

What was there to say? 

To say Nicole simply missed her too felt inadequate. There was no way to put on paper the way her longing for Waverly hung in her chest, and the consequences of leaving weighed on her shoulders, day-in and day-out. 

Since she graduated, Nicole hadn’t truly settled down. It seemed wrong even to try when she’d left her heart and soul with Waverly.

First, she had followed Shae to medical school on the east coast. She only lasted two months before she packed up her Bronco and left. She roamed the country, picking up odd jobs, bouncing aimlessly from town to town, city to city. 

Everywhere she went, Nicole would take in the attractions and sunsets, and she felt she was more with Waverly in any given moment than wherever her head rested. 

As she traveled, she would occasionally drop a postcard in the mail to Waverly, never with a return address. She penned out the only words that she knew to be true: Waverly’s address and “Love, Nicole.” 

Nicole carefully refolded the letter, slid it back in its envelope, and tucked it back into her bag.

This letter had been a tormenting reminder of heartache, anger, hope, frustration, nostalgia…love. But now ten years later and finally making her way back to Waverly, here she was, banking on Waverly still missing her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need to hurt just a little more after this chapter, here’s a few songs that might just be like salt in a wound:  
> \- What She’s Doing Now by Garth Brooks (I’d share a link but Garth’s stuff is a mythical unicorn on the internet — I know you can find it on Amazon Prime music in the U.S. though)  
> \- More Than a Memory by Garth Brooks  
> \- [What Could’ve Been](https://youtu.be/Vlhy7QPFohY) by Gone West
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo)... who put up with a lot of terrible 90s country mood music throughout this fic. 
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	9. Chapter 9

_ — 1994 —  _

A few days after her run-in with Jimmy, he was the furthest thing from Nicole’s mind when Waverly asked her to run into town for a few things. 

Until his truck was front and center in her rearview mirror, riding close enough to her tailgate that it filled up the reflective surface. 

“Shit,” she mumbled, heart racing as her foot held steady on the gas pedal. 

Suddenly it seemed foolish to have kept his trespass to herself. 

The fading bruises on Nicole’s still-swollen knuckles hadn’t gone unnoticed by Waverly. She mumbled a lame excuse about closing the barn door on her own hand. Waverly’s eyes had narrowed in suspicion, but Nicole teased it wouldn’t hold her back in the bedroom. A kiss to Waverly’s furrowed brow and a cocky, “Want me to prove it?” later, and the concern was chased away between Waverly’s sheets. 

The engine of Jimmy’s truck revved, loud in her ears as it carried through the nearly empty cargo area. Nicole glanced in her side mirror to see his truck speeding into the oncoming lane. Pursing her lips, she glared straight ahead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the frustration on her face. 

The engine revved again, and the shiny hood of Jimmy’s truck just barely entered her field of vision before she caught it turning abruptly closer, toward the side of her Bronco. 

She reacted instinctively, punching the brake enough for her to hastily downshift. Jimmy’s truck narrowly missed hitting her own, instead careening off the side of the road. 

Nicole swore as her eyes followed the hard drop off into the ditch at the side. With her attention consumed by Jimmy and his truck, she’d lost track of where she was on her journey back to the farm. The Bronco passed the cloud of dust to the side of the road that Jimmy’s truck had vanished behind. She instinctively looked into the rearview mirror, only seeing swirling thick smoke and churned up dust. 

She hastily came to a stop in the middle of the road and jumped out of her truck, leaving her hat on the passenger seat. Nicole ran back toward the smoke, but her stomach dropped when the dust settled enough for her to make out Jimmy’s truck, rolled over with its wheels in the air. 

Nicole guessed it rolled at least twice before coming to its current resting point, off the road and onto a dry, dusty patch of land. 

She hurried toward the driver’s door. Once even with the truck, through the open window, she saw Jimmy’s body flung against the windshield. She surveyed the scene inside, broken beer bottles and loose papers everywhere; she couldn’t help but notice the irony between the shiny, waxed exterior and the trashed inside, the stains and tears in the leather seats. 

When her eyes landed on Jimmy again, she winced, eyes roaming from the awkward angle of his back and blood dripping from a gash near his temple. 

She reached through the open window, catching a whiff of stale beer and, gingerly as she could, pulled him from the wreckage and dragged him away so they could both breathe easier, out of the smoke. 

His chest was barely rising and falling from his spot on the ground. Nicole reached for his pulse, feeling it slow, barely there beneath her fingers. 

Her own heart rate picked up, as she scanned from the wreckage to her own truck and back to Jimmy. Panic rose in her chest, wrapping around her lungs. 

The sound of an approaching vehicle pulled her from her spiraling mind, and she ran to the side of the road to flag it down. 

\--

The sky was dark when Nicole returned to the farm. The faint glow from the porch and dusk-to-dawn light were harsh against her eyes, heavy with fatigue. In spite of the late hour, her body and mind were still reeling, hands jittery as she pulled the park brake and killed the engine. 

Her eyes closed as she flopped against the driver’s seat, needing a moment before she faced Waverly. 

“Nicole! Where have you been?!” 

She sat up abruptly at the panic in Waverly’s voice, her eyes snapping open to see Waverly was rounding the hood of her truck. 

The driver’s door groaned as it was opened abruptly, and Nicole felt the chill in the night air sneak inside, wafting traces of Waverly’s perfume in too. 

“Nicole!” 

The desperation in Waverly’s voice spurred Nicole to move, unbuckling her seatbelt. She had barely shifted out of her seat when Waverly’s hands pulled her from the truck and out onto the driveway. As soon as her boots touched the dirt, Waverly’s arms wrapped tightly around her middle. 

“I’ve been so worried,” Waverly breathed into her shirt. 

Nicole automatically mirrored her, pulling Waverly as close to her as she could. She inhaled deeply, the comfort in the smell of Waverly’s shampoo grounding her; Nicole felt unsettled like  _ she  _ had been the one to roll upside down. 

“I’m sorry, I should have called,” Nicole murmured, before pressing a kiss to the side of Waverly’s head. 

Waverly abruptly stepped back, out of the embrace, and Nicole’s tired arms flopped back to her sides. 

“ _ Where _ have you been? And why do you smell like smoke?” Waverly’s eyes bulged as she more fully took in Nicole’s appearance, cautiously pulling at Nicole's shirt. “ _ Is that blood?”  _

Nicole took a deep breath before looking down to better examine it for herself; some of Jimmy’s blood stained her shirt, and her jeans were coated in dust and dirt. 

“I’m sorry…I should’ve called. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinkin’,” Nicole drawled, running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face before meeting Waverly’s gaze. 

“Where have you  _ been _ ?” Waverly repeated impatiently, eyes giving away her apprehension. 

“I ran into Jimmy on my way back from town.” 

Waverly’s eyes darted back to streak on Nicole’s shirt. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No. He, uhh, he tried though,” Nicole answered sheepishly. 

The air was still around them, and in the deafening silence Nicole was sure she would’ve heard a pin hit the dirt before Waverly turned, stomping toward the house. 

“Hey,” Nicole hurried after her. “Wave!” 

Nicole was hot on her heels as Waverly rushed inside, going for her keys. 

“What are you—” 

Nicole was pushed aside, as Waverly marched back through the house, grabbing her shotgun. 

“I’m going to see Jimmy, don’t wait up,” Waverly stated as she loaded the shotgun and snapped it shut. 

“Wait, Waves. H—he’s…” Nicole trailed off, as Waverly’s attention darted back to her. “...he’s dead.” 

\-- 

Nicole told Waverly everything over a bottle of whiskey at the dining room table. From Jimmy trying to run her off the road and instead rolling his own truck, to helping to rush his limp body back into town to the doctor, to the hours in the sheriff's office. 

As she spoke, Waverly’s eyes barely left the blood stain on Nicole’s shirt. When she finished, Waverly abruptly stood, pulling the garment from Nicole’s body and steering her toward the shower. 

The whiskey on Waverly’s lips and the hot shower washed the heaviness of her day down the drain. Waverly’s fingers, blazing across her skin, chased the jumpy, jittery twitches from her muscles and tamed her unsettled energy.

It was only once they were back in Waverly’s bed, breath caught and bodies curled against one another beneath the sheets, that Waverly finally spoke up. 

Waverly’s palm was warm against Nicole’s cheek, and she leaned into it. The residual smell of soap from the shower was hidden beneath sweat and traces of Nicole herself. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Nicole.” Waverly bit her lip before shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. He could’ve killed you.” 

Waverly’s voice broke, and her hand slipped away from Nicole.

Nicole pulled Waverly closer to her, kissing away the tears that fell from Waverly’s eyes as she continued to shake her head. 

“I’m here. It’s not your fault,” Nicole soothed, through her own guilt. 

Waverly shook harder in her arms, inconsolable to Nicole’s words, and it spurred honesty to tumble from Nicole’s lips. 

“It’s mine, Waverly, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have worried you like that.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Waverly swiped at her eyes. 

Nicole bit her lip before admitting, “He, uh, he  _ might _ have had a bone to pick with me.” 

“What do you mean? You were only sticking up for me.” 

“There, there  _ might _ ’ve been something else.” 

Waverly leaned away from Nicole, eying her shrewdly. “What do you mean?” 

“He, uh, he came back. The other day.” 

Nicole recounted her interaction with Jimmy in the barn, how he was coming for Champ’s truck, and the keys that made it clear he had been in the house. She reached for Waverly as she spoke, but Waverly inched further and further away, betrayal creeping into her features. 

When Nicole finished, the silence between them hung thickly in the air. Palpable as Nicole uneasily breathed it in. 

Waverly’s voice was a deadly hiss when she finally spoke up. “I  _ knew  _ you were keeping something from me. That’s how you bruised your hand,  _ isn’t it _ ? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

Nicole watched helplessly as Waverly’s gaze flicked up and down, like she didn’t know who was in her bed, and it felt like a punch to the gut. 

“Because I love you.” 

The words tumbled helplessly from Nicole’s lips. 

They were true, and she knew it wasn’t nearly the time for them, but Waverly’s recoil stung, shattering something inside of Nicole. 

“Are you  _ serious _ right now?” Waverly seethed. 

“Because I was trying to protect you.” 

Waverly’s head shook, and she pulled the sheets higher. “I don’t need you to protect me, Nicole. I don’t need  _ anyone _ .” 

“Waverly—” 

“No,” Waverly rolled her lips in, tears threatening to spill over again. “Get out.” 

Waverly turned away, back to Nicole. 

Nicole reached out, but there was enough space between them now that her arm fell limply to the bed. 

She longed to pull Waverly closer, but Waverly had made her position clear. Fighting back her own emotion, Nicole pulled back the sheets. When the door to Waverly’s bedroom clicked closed behind her, she wondered if she’d ever be on the other side of that door again. 

\--

“Do you have everything you need?” 

The question pulled Nicole from her thoughts while she mindlessly pushed her dinner around her plate. 

With a week before Nicole was due to leave the farm and only a few days since she had been kicked from Waverly’s bed, Nicole felt she was on precarious ground. 

That night, after Nicole had gone to her room, she spent a sleepless night packing her duffel bag, unsure if she was still welcome in Waverly’s home. Waverly found it the next morning, looking for Nicole’s stained shirt to clean, and insisted it was okay for Nicole to stay and honor her commitment. However, the way Waverly failed to meet her eyes told Nicole all she needed to know about the depth of her mistake, and Nicole couldn’t seem to find her footing on where she belonged in Waverly’s life anymore. 

Every step through the house felt hollow, not being in Waverly’s good graces. Or her bed. 

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked, dropping her fork to trade it for her mug of coffee. 

“Do you have everything you need?” Waverly repeated, before pausing for a bite of green beans. “For school? I want to get you something...not a going-away present, but…”

Waverly’s tone changed as she spoke, a hollow sadness dripping into her words. She shook her head before she continued, a forced smile on her face as she plowed forward. “But maybe something you'll need for school?” 

Nicole took a slow sip from her mug. She had bided her time since she sent in her deposit, making no mention of leaving, but also not voicing her desire to stay. 

Because regardless of the current state of affairs, she still longed to stay here with Waverly. Both of their fights, particularly the one over Nicole going to school, lingered at the forefront of her mind, and it was hard to bring up one of the sore subjects that had led to this place of awkward glances and lingering uncertainty in the first place. 

When she had the luxury of waking up with Waverly in her arms each morning, it felt impossible to vocalize something that would likely get her kicked out. But now she was running out of time. 

Unless Nicole’s hope was playing tricks on her, there was some reluctance in Waverly’s tone at the mention of her upcoming departure. 

“I don’t think I need anything,” Nicole shrugged. 

Waverly looked disappointed as she returned to her green beans without a word. 

Nicole hung her future on that look as she pushed all her metaphorical chips forward, going all in. 

“I—I don’t have to go...” 

Waverly’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Nicole swallowed, putting her heart on the line. “I don’t  _ want _ to go. I want to stay here, with…” 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ finish that sentence, Nicole.” 

“You,” Nicole finished pitifully, before repeating, “ _ You _ . Why is it so hard for you to believe I love—” 

Waverly pushed back from the table, chair legs grating across the floor and hands covering her ears. "Nope, nope, nope." 

Waverly rushed from the room, but Nicole followed her onto the porch. 

“Why? Why is it so hard to believe that I  _ want _ to be with you?” Nicole fumed before the door could slam closed. “You said you could fall in love with someone again. Why are you fighting this?” 

Waverly turned on her heel, a hand pushing her hair out of her face before rubbing at her forehead. 

“Nicole, you’re so young,” the exasperation in Waverly’s voice prickled Nicole’s skin. “You’re only just starting to figure out what you really want.” 

“I want  _ you _ . Why is that so hard to fathom? You were my age when you met Champ.” 

Waverly stepped away, moving closer to the railing. “That’s…that was different.” 

Nicole followed her, facing Waverly instead of the fields. 

“It wasn’t, and you know it. You can’t tell me you don’t feel this too.” 

Nicole reached out, brushing aside Waverly’s hair, placing a gentle kiss to her jaw. 

Waverly shook her head, long hair dancing with the movement. 

“See you can’t even say it! I’m staying. I want to  _ stay _ ,” Nicole pleaded. 

Waverly silently shook her head again, and Nicole pressed on. “What makes you think you can even count on Wynonna? You said she took off once before, what if she does again? Let me stay. Let me  _ help _ .” 

Even before Waverly turned, Nicole felt the change in the air around them. It felt heavy like approaching rain with an undercurrent of electricity thrumming in the air; if the wind blew the right way, a spark would catch, and the sky would light up in a flash. 

Waverly’s eyes were clouded with tears, fast and furiously dropping onto the floorboards. But it was the daggers behind them, thrown Nicole’s way when she turned abruptly, that had Nicole rocking back on her heels.

“No,” Waverly snarled, stomping toward the door. “You’re going, Nicole! This isn’t up for debate. I’m  **_not_ ** having this conversation again.” 

The distant rumble of thunder couldn’t drown out the slam from the screen door. 

Nicole moved numbly, tears slipping from her eyes as she heard the approaching rain pelt the earth. She slid onto the railing, tiredly hauling her feet up too, until her boots sat on the section in front of her. 

Gasping for air as she sobbed, Nicole settled in to ride out the storm, at least this one, raging outside the house. 

\--

In hindsight, Nicole knew voicing her desire to stay while Waverly was still upset that Nicole had kept things from her, wasn’t unlike throwing gasoline on a fire. 

But she wasn’t expecting her betrayal to fuel Waverly’s anger for the rest of her stay. 

Waverly deliberately kept her at arm’s length, occupied with chores and tasks that kept them far apart during the day, and then retreated to the living room in the evenings. The conversation between them was stilted, Waverly only speaking to her when needed and keeping her replies to Nicole terse. 

Nicole stubbornly thought it was so that she would  _ want _ to leave. 

It wasn’t until dinner the night before Nicole was set to leave, that Waverly’s anger finally burnt out. It was replaced by a sadness that hung heavily over the dining room table. It amplified the ache in Nicole’s chest at leaving in the morning, and she half-wished for the anger instead. 

When Waverly joined her on the porch, Nicole was grateful for whatever switch had flipped. She slid off the railing one last time to sit next to Waverly on the steps, not missing the sigh from Waverly when she rested her head on Nicole’s shoulder. 

Nicole’s heart grew heavier as the sun sank from sight. Once the last traces of orange and pink faded from the horizon, Waverly slowly stood, taking Nicole’s hand with her. 

“C’mon cowboy, we have one more night.” 

_ — 2004 —  _

It didn’t feel real. 

Nicole’s foot was light on the gas pedal but, as dry as it was, dust swirled in her rearview mirror. Even though the Bronco was only in 2nd gear, if there was anyone trailing behind her, she wouldn’t have a chance of seeing them. 

The uncertainty made her squirm, so she forced her gaze in front of her, occasionally allowing it to drift to the side. 

It was like a dream. Nicole gripped the steering wheel harder, her knuckles aching from the strain. She was sure she would wake up, hands curled around nothing but air and haunted again by everything Waverly. 

Minus the evidence of drought all around her, everything looked the same as the familiar one-story house with wrap-around porch came into view. 

_ Time hadn’t changed a damn thing, but what if Waverly had? _

Nicole shook her head, knowing she’d find out soon enough, but it didn’t ease the vice-like tension in her stomach. 

No sooner had she pulled her truck into her old spot than the door to the barn slammed open. The squeak of hinges cut through the still air, loud enough to startle anyone in a 5 mile radius. 

She pulled the park brake before turning toward the sound, hands flying in the air once she did. 

The greeting felt awfully familiar except, this time, it was a man in jeans and a gray tank-top with a sleek, black handgun held loosely down by his side. 

“Sign says No Trespassing.” 

His voice was clear, steady, and rang of someone accustomed to having his orders followed. 

Nicole called out the open window, “I’m just lookin’ for Waverly.” 

“She’s not here,” he replied calmly, his weapon held steady. 

Nicole panicked, mind going to the worst-case scenario. Surely she would’ve heard if Waverly was dead...

“Is she...gone or—is she going to be back... _ soon _ ?” 

The man eyed her shrewdly and finally holstered his gun. She was of half a mind that it was out of pity after the noticeable tremor in her voice. 

“Who are you?” he asked, taking a step forward. “Get out of the vehicle.” 

Nicole scrambled from her truck, a shaky hand reaching for her hat on the passenger seat. Her knees buckled when her boots finally touched Waverly’s land once again. 

“Nicole—Nicole Haught. I used to work for Waverly.” 

“Yeah, she’s mentioned you,” he replied slowly, still staring at her. Or through her. Nicole wasn’t sure. “She’s out of town for a few days, with her sister.” 

“Oh.” 

“You didn’t let her know you were coming, did you?” he asked shrewdly. 

Nicole shook her head, confused and distinctly off balance by this turn of events. She never imagined Waverly  _ wouldn’t _ be here. 

“When will they be back?” Nicole asked weakly, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. 

“Not sure,” the man replied. “Two, maybe three days?” 

“Oh,” Nicole repeated, eyes falling to the ground. 

Her throat tightened, echoes of Waverly's anger, pushing her away, building in her ears. 

_ It was a mistake. It was a mistake. It was a mistake coming back here.  _

“If you wanna stay,” he said slowly, breaking the silence. “I think she’d be happy to see you. And I could use a hand while they’re gone...if you’re willing to work?” 

Nicole perked up at the mention of work. Of contributing. 

“Of course,” she replied immediately. 

A wide, almost knowing grin spread across his face as he extended his hand. “You can call me Dolls.” 

Nicole took it, before asking, “Wynonna’s husband?” 

“Something like that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo).
> 
> If you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The people of twitter have spoken, and I've got the last 3 chapters coming up today before our shitshow comes back to us! Here's to season 4!

_— 1994 —_

Nicole knew better to expect anything different, it stung nonetheless to wake up alone in Waverly’s bed. Again. 

Her heart was heavy as she picked her clothes off the floor and slid into them, shivering slightly as the cool fabric came into contact with her skin. 

Nicole inched toward the kitchen, in no hurry to leave. She ran her hand against the wall in the hallway as she moved, desperate to prolong her ties to Waverly, to her home. 

When she stepped into the dining room, there was something at her place. She hurried closer, brow furrowing at the map. Nicole snatched it up, anger shaking the melancholy away. 

She rounded the table, pushing the door open to the kitchen. Coffee and breakfast were waiting for her as if it was any other morning. Just like any other day, Waverly was not. 

Nicole turned, the map still crumpled in her hand as she stomped outside in search of Waverly. 

Though the Jeep was gone, Nicole stomped from the barn to the garden, and then skimmed the fields, not wanting to believe that Waverly wasn’t here. 

Nicole hurriedly loaded her Bronco and raced into town, churning up more dust than she normally would, with her foot heavy on the gas pedal and the truck in 5th gear. It was out of her way, and she knew she was already pushing it to make it to campus on-time, but she _needed_ to find Waverly. See her one last time. 

It didn’t take long for her to deduce that Waverly wasn’t there either, without a red Jeep taking up one of the few parking spots. 

Nicole took her time, gassing up the Bronco, hoping that Waverly or her Jeep might make an appearance. 

The lack of goodbye ripped at her heart. Nicole lowered the brim on her hat before she climbed into the truck, keeping it on to hide her tears as the town faded in her rearview mirror. 

_— 2004 —_

Nicole spent three days handling Dolls’ barked-out orders of chores before a cloud of dust announced an approaching vehicle. 

In her time reacquainting herself with the farm, Nicole eyed the changes, or really lack thereof, since she was last there. 

_Lack_ might be an understatement, given that Nicole had counted a whopping two. 

The first was more obvious: a small house, barely visible from Waverly’s porch, where Dolls retreated at night, and he and Wynonna called home. The second she found late in the evening the day she arrived. 

She made dinner for herself in Waverly’s kitchen, unsettled and unable to shake the feeling that someone walked over her grave. She blamed it on the shadows that crept through the windows, playing tricks on her; Nicole kept sneaking glances over her shoulder, imagining Waverly coming in, kicking her out, and telling her to leave. Again. 

When she escaped to the sanctuary of the porch, before she could haul herself up on the railing with her coffee, she found a distinct heart carved into the wood. In her spot. 

When the swirling dust caught their attention in the distance, she and Dolls were united in a fight against the tractor, cursing its stubborn, sputtering engine. Before the hum from the distant vehicle had even reached her ears, Dolls was already halfway to the spigot to wash the oil and grime from his hands and arms. 

She followed, watching a blue and white truck tear down the driveway. Nicole’s nerves must’ve shown on her face, because his usually-stoic features were replaced by a reassuring smile. Dolls clapped a still damp hand to her shoulder, coolness seeping into the fabric, before heading back to greet the truck. 

Hastily washing her hands of as much oil as she could, Nicole felt self-conscious, eyes drifting from the dust covering her jeans, to the hole in the arm of her stained shirt, wishing she’d had time to replace the worn hat on her head for the pristine Stetson resting in a box in the guest bedroom. 

Nicole approached the truck, and the glare of the sun on the windshield blocked out the passenger seat, but the woman in the driver’s seat could only be Wynonna. When the passenger door opened, Nicole pulled her hat from her head, all too aware of her heart on her sleeve. And probably in her eyes. 

“Nicole?” 

Nicole was startled by the weakness in Waverly’s voice. Her feet moved closer and closer on that alone before she could register all the changes in front of her. 

When her eyes finally took in Waverly, she seemed to have aged more than years had passed, from the pale, almost-ill color to her skin, to more gray hair and additional lines distinguishable on her face. 

A shaking hand shielded Waverly’s eyes from the high midday sun, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Nicole felt distinctly in the spotlight once again; it was different in so many ways, but she couldn’t help but be transported back in time, when she stood millimeters from this spot, feeling similarly worried about Waverly’s reaction. 

But, this time, they weren’t alone with confessions made under moonlight, and Nicole felt Wynonna’s narrowed eyes on her. 

The growing hope on Waverly’s face fell before she shook her head, and Nicole felt cold ice seep into the crack in her heart; the pain of it snapping into place nearly knocked her to her knees. 

Tears slipped from Waverly’s eyes before she turned away, toward the porch. “Wynonna, call that _quack_ of a doctor and tell him I’m not takin’ those pills anymore. Hallucinations now of all _flippin’_ things.”

She stomped up the creaky steps, starting to warp in the time passed since Nicole had replaced them. Waverly left Nicole confused behind her, standing in the kicked up dust. 

Waverly laughed hollowly. “And seeing things like that, sure isn’t good for my heart.” 

Her voice cracked, and though Nicole’s mind struggled to follow what was happening, she stepped forward, finally choking out. “Waverly, I’m here. I’m _really_ here.”

Waverly carried on, not bothering to turn around. “Hearing things too? Great, just _great_. If I was a horse, they’d shoot me. Put me out of my misery.” 

The loud crack of the screen door when it slammed against the frame echoed into the still air. 

The sound rang in Nicole’s ears, achingly familiar. 

Nicole jumped at a clap on her shoulder, not realizing anyone was so close. She turned to see Wynonna and was surprised to find her own eyes cloudy from unshed tears. 

“I can see ya, so I guess you’re _not_ a hallucination. Unless her and I are in some alternate dimension.” 

“What’s...what’s wrong with her?” Nicole stammered, fighting to keep them from falling. 

“If you’re the one she’s been pining after all these years, better go after her and show her you’re real. Before she does something stupid.” 

The dark, cryptic note that seeped into Wynonna’s tone wasn’t lost on Nicole, and she stumbled in her haste to get to the porch. She took the few stairs two at a time and hurried inside. With her ears straining to gauge where Waverly went, she pried off her boots and set them aside before the screen door slammed shut. Only then did she register the faint sounds of crying from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. 

Nicole hurried closer to the sound, socked feet slipping on the worn pine floors, ten-years worth of uncertainty and doubt making it hard to feel steady in any way. She skidded around the corner, surprised to find Waverly standing in the middle of the hallway, head down and shoulders shaking, outside of the closed door to Nicole’s room. 

The weight in the pit of her stomach grew as she drew closer, watching the tears falling from Waverly’s eyes and onto the floor. 

“Waverly...“ she reached out, brushing her fingers across Waverly’s cotton-covered shoulder before she could stop herself, abruptly reaching back and dropping her hand to her side. 

Waverly choked on a sob as she turned, watery eyes wide. Waverly didn’t seem to trust her senses, and Nicole cursed herself, as she had every day since she left for leaving in the first place. 

“I’m here,” Nicole assured, voice steady in all the ways she didn’t feel.

Nicole reached into the space between them and offered her hand. 

Waverly glanced from her face to her hand and back, still not daring to believe it. And Nicole didn’t blame her. 

If Waverly had appeared in front of her after ten years without a word, she would’ve been sure she was stuck one of her tormented dreams come to life. _Knowing_ in her gut all too well that she’d wake up alone and questioning if it all had been real to begin with—because in the grand scheme of things those three months had been as fleeting as a dream. A small blip, an anecdote really, in the course of her life. 

With Waverly in front of her again though, it all came coursing back. For all that she had missed, longed for really, and all the harrowed dreams, none had ever _quite_ captured the true feeling of being in Waverly’s presence. 

All she could hope was that Waverly felt that too. On some level. _Any level_. 

Nicole wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed, losing count of the seconds, audibly ticking away from the grandfather clock in the living room. The sound faded away as Nicole held her breath. 

Waverly finally moved, reaching out and bypassing Nicole’s hand to instead curl a hand around her waist. She watched as Waverly’s eyes lit up at feeling her, warm and real, right in front of her, and the contact alone chased away some of Nicole’s tension and anxiety. 

With a shuddering breath, she watched as Waverly’s gaze lowered to her feet and slowly, painstakingly rose, as if searching, still, to confirm it really was her. From her white crew socks to her light, stonewashed jeans. When her eyes reached Nicole’s worn leather belt, her other hand came to rest lightly on Nicole’s hip, as if Waverly was grounding herself 

When their eyes finally met again, Waverly surged forward, lips meeting Nicole’s with a frenzy and momentum that pushed Nicole’s back against the wall, in the narrow confines of the hallway. 

Nicole’s hands scrambled for something, _anything_ , as she matched Waverly’s pace. One pulled Waverly flush to her, and the other held Waverly’s hand in place as it wrapped around her neck. 

Waverly’s lips breathed life to a fire inside Nicole that hadn’t burned since she was last in this house. Suddenly it was roaring. 

Without breaking the kiss, Waverly turned, backing Nicole down the hallway toward Waverly’s bedroom. 

The door creaked open, and Nicole felt 18 again. The familiarity and coordination of pulling clothes off of one another was as natural as if Nicole had never left, but as garment after garment hit the floor, the skin that was revealed showed the true passage of time. 

Waverly was lean before, but now there was a frailty to her, from the way Nicole could count her ribs, to the loss of muscle on her frame and the lack of color in her skin. Nicole tried to pull herself from all the alarm bells going off in her head, rationalizing that her own body had changed too. 

Waverly seemed just as aware of the changes time had brought to Nicole. Waverly’s thumb brushed across the faint scar on her cheek, and her eyes narrowed at a long, deeper, and more recently healed one on Nicole’s side. 

Her gaze lingered there, hands moving closer to the marred skin, though Waverly seemed hesitant to touch it. When their eyes finally met, there was an unsaid question visible on her lips. 

Nicole reached out, directing Waverly’s fingers to the puckered skin, needing to prove to Waverly it was okay, as much as she needed to prove to herself that Waverly was still really there. 

And when Waverly’s fingers brushed the scar, Nicole surged forward, lips locking on Waverly’s once again and pushing her back onto the bed. 

\--

Nicole woke up the next morning with Waverly snoring softly in her arms and the sun streaming in through the curtains. Nicole lazily moved a hand to block her eyes from the light, careful not to jostle Waverly with the movement. 

It was much later than Nicole was accustomed to rising, but she was even more surprised that Waverly wasn’t up and moving. 

Nicole certainly wasn’t complaining though, especially not when Waverly curled closer to her in her sleep. She didn’t have the heart to wake her by getting up, instead she inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scents of Waverly’s shampoo, her perfume, even her laundry detergent, before being lulled back to sleep. 


	11. Chapter 11

_— 1994 —_

When Nicole arrived on campus, she was the last freshman to check in, narrowly making it before the cut-off time. 

Exhausted as she was from the emotional toll of the past few days and the travel, she was looking forward to settling in her dorm, a hot shower, and finding Shae. 

But, because she sent in her deposit so late, she and five other girls were crammed into the small common room in a dormitory, converted into housing with three bunk beds and some rolling coat racks to substitute for their closets. 

“It’s temporary,” the RA assured her. “A couple folks always drop out the first week. We’ll find better homes for all of you then.” 

After one night, Nicole moved back into her truck, on the outskirts of the parking lot for the football stadium. She didn’t mind, it was better there, quiet, in her space, and she nodded along through Shae’s assurances that they’d live together next year. 

In spite of the lack of closure with Waverly, Nicole couldn’t help but write to her, dropping a letter in the mail every other day. 

Classes were hard, and money was tight, but Shae got a job at the campus bookstore and sweet-talked the manager into an interview for Nicole too. Nicole got some misprinted clothes for free and a discount on her textbooks, but she felt claustrophobic inside under fluorescent lights all day. 

Two weeks passed before Nicole finally received a reply from Waverly. Nicole continued to write to her, and though she only received a letter in response once a week, it was better than nothing. 

Things looked up when a professor mentioned the dairy farm needed help, and Nicole perked up as her classmates shuddered at the thought of smelling like manure. She fought against the tide of people leaving the lecture hall after class, to ask him more. 

Nicole felt like she was a part of something bigger again, tending to the animals that made the milk, cheese, and ice cream her classmates consumed in the dining halls. 

After her first week at her new job, Nicole broke down on a lonely Friday night and called Waverly. For the next few weeks, they talked on the phone for hours every Friday night. 

Until Waverly went radio silent. 

Nicole called and wrote, not getting a response until after Thanksgiving. She received a small package from Waverly, just a large jar of Vick’s and a letter. Nicole’s eyes hungrily scanned the letter, her heart broken anew at Waverly’s apology; hearing Nicole’s voice was too much, but she could still write. 

But Nicole didn’t. 

Over the next four years and after she graduated, every time she tried to put her pen to paper, her words were clouded, either by frustration, anger, despair, longing, or love. Or all of the above. 

She tried and tried, but her brain always tripped on one thought: did Waverly really have the nerve to think this wasn’t just as hard on Nicole? 

Nicole had soldiered on, through letters and phone calls to cling to any tie to Waverly. That Waverly couldn’t do the same stung and hurt in ways Nicole never could’ve imagined. 

The ache of missing Waverly was constant, from her voice, her perfume, her touch, to her laugh. Nicole couldn’t shake those ghosts, couldn’t bring herself to explore moving on, in spite of all of Shae’s failed attempts to help her do just that. 

_— 2004 —_

Nicole had barely closed her eyes before she woke again, this time much more abruptly, to the sheets sliding out from underneath her. She groggily clawed at them, trying to stop the movement, before she felt herself tip over the edge of the mattress. She toppled onto the floor in a heap. 

She groaned as her hip awkwardly took the brunt of her collision with the wood floor. 

“Good morning?” she said slowly, tone heavy with sleep, swiping at her eyes. 

“Out! Get out, Nicole!”

Nicole sighed, prying her eyes open to take in the scene before her. 

Waverly stood at the foot of the bed, pulling a shirt over her head. Nicole looked down, her naked body half-covered in the sheet that had come off the bed when she did. 

Had Waverly said that yesterday, when she first laid eyes on her, Nicole would’ve likely listened. Now, in the morning light, Nicole couldn’t help but feel this was driven by fear. Or everything that pushed them apart in the first place. 

Once Waverly’s head emerged from the neck of the shirt, Nicole replied, “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No, you don’t get it,” Waverly grumbled, pushing her hair back from her face. 

“I don’t,” Nicole agreed, untangling herself from the sheet. “I don’t know why I left in the first place.” 

“Because I’m damaged, Nicole! I’ve always been,” Waverly rambled, haphazardly pulling clothes from drawers. “ _If_ I had known that when I met Champ...I’d have done a whole lotta things different. I can’t change that now, but I can make _this_ right. While I still have time. Now. _Get_. Find someone whole. I might feel like I’m like that to you, but it’s a mirage.”

Nicole stilled. “What do you mean? Damaged?” 

Waverly just shook her head, continuing to dress. 

“Oh come on, Waverly, you can’t say that and then not explain yourself,” Nicole fumed, pulling at the sheet again. “I deserve answers.” 

“Nope, out. Now,” Waverly huffed, stomping out the door. 

Nicole grumbled to herself, gathering her clothes and dressing, before making a beeline outside to lose herself in that day’s work. 

Her desire to take her mind off of Waverly through chores proved to be fruitless though. It was just her and Dolls toiling away in the sun, and she kept glancing toward the house, expecting Waverly to join them or at least to tend to her garden. However, Waverly remained inside. 

Dolls explained Wynonna’s absence, that she was more the type to rise to the occasion when needed, like harvest, as opposed to the daily grind, and when he didn’t ask about or mention Waverly, Nicole assumed her absence was typical. 

Or was now. 

Because it was anything but typical from the Waverly she knew, and it filled Nicole with unease. 

Nicole’s confusion over the whole situation only grew when Waverly brought them both a drink midway through the day. There was a restlessness about Waverly, the way she fidgeted with her sleeves, that didn’t seem to have to with Nicole’s presence. 

Waverly chatted with Dolls, bringing a rare grin to his face. Without Waverly including her in the conversation, Nicole returned to work. 

It wasn’t long before Nicole saw Waverly retreating back to the house, leaving her and Dolls, and the painful awareness that Dolls hadn’t missed the cold shoulder directed at Nicole. 

“Waverly said she told you to leave,” Dolls stated plainly. 

“Yeah? What, are you going to _make_ me?” Nicole replied, misplaced frustration biting into her tone, and making her sound more like the teenager she was when she’d left. 

“No.” 

Nicole turned to face him, and he just shrugged. “She’ll come around if you stick around.” 

\--

For a week, Waverly reluctantly allowed Nicole residence in her house again. She made dinner for the two of them each day and set up the coffee pot for Nicole the next morning, but dinner was the only time they spent in each other’s proximity. 

It was unusual, waking up before Waverly each morning and sitting by herself on the porch after Waverly retreated to her bedroom each evening, but Nicole knew asking questions would test the limits of Waverly’s grudging hospitality. 

Nicole worked under the hot sun, feeling more and more like coming back here was a mistake. She couldn’t read if Dolls was pitying her predicament or giving her encouragement with the days that passed. He would pat her shoulder after any encounter with Waverly during the day. 

Wynonna was less sympathetic. 

If Nicole was working by herself, Wynonna would always make an appearance to “supervise” and shoot the breeze, weaving in less-than-subtle speculation on when Nicole would leave next. 

Nicole swore, tipping the brim of her hat lower when she heard Wynonna’s truck approach for another one of her visits. She kept her gaze down, attention on the trench she was digging, when she heard the truck come to a stop near her, engine still idling. 

“Hi Wynonna,” she greeted with as much patience as she could muster before throwing her weight behind the shovel as it dug into the earth. 

“Is that how you greet your boss?” 

Nicole ignored her, lifting up the dirt and adding it to the pile behind her. 

“Maybe you do,” Wynonna mused. “Since you’re in the doghouse and all.” 

“Wy—” 

“Before you say something stupid, get in the truck. You’re done for the day.” 

Nicole glanced at the sky, seeing it was barely noon.

“Waverly’s orders.” 

There was a soft, sincerity in Wynonna’s tone that drew Nicole’s attention to her. 

“Why?” Nicole asked, apprehensive. 

“No idea, but unless you want to walk back…” Wynonna trailed off, patting the passenger seat. 

Nicole huffed but finally moved forward, depositing her shovel in the truck bed before hopping into the passenger seat. 

The ride was silent, and when Wynonna dropped her off at the house, Nicole found Waverly on the porch, a small cooler and blanket at her side. 

“I need some fresh air. Are you up for a picnic?” Waverly asked. 

Nicole nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Do you mind driving?” 

Nicole grabbed her keys and headed back to the porch, eyes narrowing at the way Waverly struggled to lift the weight of the cooler. She jumped forward, hands out. 

“Hey, I got that. You want to grab the blanket?” 

Waverly grumbled but nodded. 

The lack of protest underscored all of Nicole’s unease for whatever was wrong. She nervously watched, wincing at the effort it took Waverly to clamber into her truck, breathless by the time she threw herself into the passenger seat. 

Nicole drove as Waverly directed her across the property, but the open windows couldn’t chase away the sense of foreboding Nicole felt. 

When she pulled the park brake on the truck, she hurried out and around the hood, meeting Waverly at her door and offering her arm to help Waverly down. 

Though she grumbled again, Waverly took it, getting out of the truck much easier than she made it in. Nicole spread the blanket, before heading back to the truck for the cooler. 

It was only after she sat down and pulled back the paper of the sandwich Waverly handed her that Waverly spoke up, so softly it was almost inaudible. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Nicole froze, stomach churning. She set her food aside, knowing she probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down anyway. 

“For what?” Nicole asked. 

Waverly’s head was down, as her fingers restlessly picked at a thread on the blanket. 

“Trying to kick you out. Push you away. _Again_ .” Waverly bit her lip before meeting Nicole’s eyes. “I’m happy to see you, I _really_ am…” 

The desperation, the longing in Waverly’s voice in those last few words mirrored every reason that brought Nicole back. She slid closer to Waverly. 

“But it’s wrong of me to keep you here.” 

“Why?” Nicole asked immediately. “I need answers…real ones.” 

Waverly nodded slowly, lips rolling in, and Nicole couldn’t help but reach for her hand. 

She listened intently as Waverly detailed the months after Nicole left the farm, and how Waverly’s heartache camouflaged something more grim. 

It had started out slow. A lingering cough, the occasional shortness of breath, an odd chest pain. But she was in so much pain as it was, how was she to separate them from her own heartbreak? 

Waverly soldiered on. Rationalizing and writing off symptoms even as they became more apparent. She wasn’t sleeping well, was barely eating, just doing her best to put one foot in front of another and get through another day. 

Wynonna kept saying how thin she looked, and Dolls’ eyes would narrow, not in judgment but in concern as she had to take more breaks to catch her breath, taking all day to complete chores she used to finish before the sun was high in the sky. 

Wynonna wouldn’t let up, urging her to see the doctor in town, but Waverly was stubborn, and refused. Until, almost two years ago, she was lightheaded and fell off the ladder. Wynonna picked her up off the ground, tossed her in the truck, and took her into town herself. 

There was a sick irony to the diagnosis of congenital heart failure since her heart had already failed her, broken and in pieces since Nicole left. 

The time since had been filled with testing and medication, both of which sapped Waverly of what little energy she had left. 

When Nicole arrived at the farm, Wynonna and Waverly had traveled to the nearest big city for a second opinion, but stayed after the doctor there recommended an experimental treatment. 

As Waverly spoke, Nicole scooted closer. By the end, she had Waverly pulled tight to her, Nicole’s free arm wrapped around Waverly’s shoulders. 

“I’ve missed you every day since you left,” Waverly admitted, squeezing Nicole’s hand where their fingers were still linked. 

Nicole turned, placing a kiss to Waverly’s temple, hoping to soften her question. “Why didn’t you ask me to come back?” 

“I thought...I thought after all that happened with Champ and my...shortcomings...I’d never feel this way again. And then there you were. You had... _and you still have_...your whole damn life ahead of you. It seemed wrong to take that from you. It still feels wrong.”

“It’s not,” Nicole stated plainly. “I’m right where I want to be.” 

She pulled Waverly closer to emphasize her point. 

“How do you know?”

“I tried...I tried living my life without you in it, but…” Nicole trailed off, looking out across the fields as she searched for the right words. “I’ve felt like I was sleepwalkin’ through life until I came back here. Everywhere I went, everything I saw…nothin’ held a candle to being here with you.” 

“Seemed like you went a lot of places looking…” 

Nicole turned, finding soft eyes on her when she did. 

“I never gave up. Not really…” Nicole trailed off. “...you got ‘em? All the postcards?” 

“Yep, kept every single one of them too. _Lots_ of sunsets.” 

“They always made me think of you,” Nicole admitted. “I tried, watching them from all those places too. Not the same.” 

Silence fell between them, and Waverly picked at some of the fruit she’d brought. 

“Tell me about it?” Waverly asked. “Everywhere you’ve been?” 

Nicole chuckled. “Where do I start?” 

Waverly pulled her closer. “The ocean. What was the ocean like?” 

\--

They grew closer, making up for lost sunsets on the porch, soft evenings in Waverly’s bed. 

Once a week, Nicole and Waverly put the farm in the Bronco’s rearview mirror to drive two towns over. Nicole knew there was a small college there, and her efforts to find out if the library was open to the public were worth it, the second she saw Waverly’s eyes light up at the sight of the building. 

It was at least twice as big as any one Waverly had ever seen, with probably three times as many books. As they drove back with a small crate of borrowed books in the backseat, Nicole told Waverly all about the even larger library at her own school. 

“Did you spend a lot of time there?” Waverly had asked, softly, seeming apprehensive to press the subject. 

Nicole lifted her hand from the gear shift to find Waverly’s own. She brought it to her lips, kissing Waverly’s knuckles before she answered. 

“When I missed you, that’s where I went. So, you could say I lived there,” Nicole joked darkly. “It was…dumb, but I saw that big building my first day on campus and I thought, ‘I’d like to see Waverly read all those books.’ And after that, when I missed you or wondered what you were doing, that’s where I went. I’d wander around, pick random books off the shelf that I thought you’d like.” 

Waverly squeezed her hand. “Did you find any?” 

“One or two,” Nicole shrugged, leaving out the list she had started. And still had in her duffel bag. 

Each week, they’d return the borrowed books to load up on more. And from then on, one from Nicole’s recommendations always made it into Waverly’s stack. 

\--

A few weeks later, Nicole stomped outside, off the porch and toward the barn. She bypassed the chainsaw, grabbing an axe and her gloves before bolting back outside. Her feet set toward the dying tree she and Dolls had put off tackling. Ordinarily she’d drive, but it wasn’t that far from Waverly’s house and she felt too restless to have her feet idle, even for those precious few minutes. 

Because there was a man in a suit inside, seated at the dining room table with Waverly, and it was a reminder of everything that was wrong. 

Nicole threw her feelings behind every swing of the axe; the added weight she put into each throw split open her hard-earned calluses. She carried on through the sting, gripping the handle even harder as she swung into the thick trunk. 

She barely paused once it fell, the ground shaking from its force, before she was back at it, swinging the axe above her head and cutting the trunk into more manageable pieces. Nicole was so lost in her work that it took Wynonna leaning on the horn of her truck to pull her attention from the tree and the blood pounding in Nicole’s ears. 

Nicole used the sleeve of her shirt to swipe at the sweat pouring down her face before impatiently calling, “What?” 

“Waverly needs you.” 

Nicole lodged the blade of the axe in the tree and shoved her gloves into the back pocket of her jeans. She climbed into the passenger seat, doing her best to ignore Wynonna; the tension and sadness radiating from the driver’s seat a mirror into Nicole’s feelings, that she was vehemently refusing to give in to. 

“I don’t like ya,” Wynonna stated plainly, hands tight on the wheel. “I’m glad you took that _asshole_ Jimmy off her hands,” Nicole shuddered at that memory, “but you left.” 

“She wouldn’t let me stick around,” Nicole huffed, ignoring the guilt swirling inside her. 

Wynonna wasn’t wrong, but Nicole felt like Wynonna didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Nicole inhaled deeply, her own words echoing in her head. 

_What makes you think you can even count on Wynonna? You said she took off once before, what if she does again?_

She squirmed in her seat, if only she had known how that situation would be reversed. 

“What was I supposed to do?” Nicole added softly. 

“I don’t know, but ten-fucking-years is a _loooong_ time to keep her waiting, huh?” Wynonna shook her head. “Listen, it doesn’t matter if I like you or not. But, Waverly…she _really_ needs you now…you know that?” 

“I do.” 

“So if you’re going to leave, _again_ , scram now. There’s no more chances, you’re either all-in or all-out.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. Wynonna, I _love_ her.” 

“Ew,” Wynonna grimaced. “Also…you’d better. Contrary to this little sappy moment, that axe is going to be lodged in your skull if you break her heart again. I am _not_ messing around, you hear me, Haught?” 

“Loud and clear…” Nicole trailed off as the house came into view. “Thank you…thanks for taking care of her.” 

Once back at the house, Nicole rushed inside, despite the ominous presence of the shiny black sedan still parked in the driveway. The screen door cracked loudly against the frame, the sound echoing inside the house as Nicole followed the voices to the dining room. 

Some official-looking documents and a pen sat at her place, and Nicole glared at them before turning to Waverly. 

“Sit, please, sweetheart.” 

Nicole was about to turn away, but a shove between the shoulder blades from Wynonna had her move shakily to her seat. 

After she sat down, Waverly continued, “Nicole, I’d—” 

“I don’t want anything,” Nicole interjected. 

There was an “except you” on the tip of her tongue, but with the present audience and knowing Nicole didn’t have a choice in that matter, she swallowed it. 

“But this is—”

“Fine,” Nicole stated, picking up the pen and directing her attention to the lawyer; anything to get this over with faster. “Where do I sign?”

It wasn’t like her to commit her name to something without knowing what it was for, but she hastily scribbled where she was told to sign and initial before she pushed away from the table and all the reminders of what was to come. 

\--

Nicole swallowed the unfairness of the entire situation. Throwing her frustration with Waverly not allowing her to just _stay_ in the first place into the most taxing chores she could, waving off all of Dolls’ offers to help, and even Wynonna when she tried to pitch in too. 

Instead of the feelings escaping into her sweat and blood that dripped into the dirt, they bottled up. 

The pressure built until it boiled over, into the fight she and Waverly should’ve had sooner, but that neither was inclined to waste precious time on. 

It was selfish, Nicole _knew_ it was, as the first frustrated words finally escaped her lips, one day after they made it back from the library. Nicole hollowly spent the entire trip wondering how many more of these Waverly had in her, and speculating that one day, Nicole would have to return unread books herself, without Waverly by her side. 

But Nicole couldn’t _not_ know. Not before Waverly was gone. 

They had returned to the farm and settled on the porch, Nicole on the railing and Waverly on the rocking chair with a book. All it took was one innocent question from Waverly.

“What’s wrong?” 

Nicole restlessly slid from her spot, walking to the far side of the porch to put more space between her and Waverly. 

“You made me leave and now you’re leaving me—I can’t be apart from you. Not again.”

Nicole’s voice was thicker than she expected, tears already forming. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Waverly replied. Her words were soft and slow, but her own sorrow was tangible as they rolled off her tongue. “But this isn’t my choice and it’s certainly not what I want. It’s… god’s? Or whomever’s… I don’t know. But, I promise, the first complaint I’ll file in the end is about the lack of time with you.” 

Waverly’s resignedness to the situation rang in her words, and they rubbed roughly across Nicole’s skin, like salt in the wounds on Nicole’s heart that would never heal, and she lost herself in the pain and unfairness of it all. 

“WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT?” she shouted towards the field, before turning back toward Waverly, her tone softening as she addressed her. “Because you could’ve had more time. _We_ could have.” 

Waverly winced, but Nicole plowed on, knowing if she didn’t say it, it would eat her alive, regardless of whether Waverly was still here or not. 

“You kicked me out. I wanted to stay. I _would’ve_ stayed. With you.”

“What could’ve you done?” Waverly snapped. “Cured this?”

The tears finally fell from Nicole’s eyes as she shook her head. “No, but I would’ve loved you through it. You wouldn’t have had to be lonely. Again.” 

Before she completely lost herself to the grief of someone not yet gone, Nicole turned, stomping off toward the fields and cursing time. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, truly, for following along and sticking with me in spite of knowing this would not end so well. That trust in me is not something I take lightly, and I hope the story and ending are worth it. 
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). When I was in the suuuper early stages of writing this, I shared what I had with Lucky to make sure I wasn’t doing something too horrible and the large, red, all caps reaction of HOLY FUCK kept me going til the end. 
> 
> Lastly, if you’d like to find me on Twitter, I’m [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).

The sun was low in the sky before Waverly found her. 

She was sitting by the fence, the same section she ruined her old hat on years ago. With her legs extended in front of her and leaning back on her elbows, her mind was a million miles beyond the fenceline. Her ass had long ago grown numb from its extended contact with the ground, and the dew was starting to seep through her jeans. 

But the guilt that had set in was what she felt the most, consuming her long before she heard the approaching rumble of Waverly’s Jeep. 

She watched as the Wrangler came to a stop, and smiled uneasily as Waverly got out.

Nicole stared resolutely at the setting sun as Waverly eased onto the patch of grass next to her. 

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said solemnly. She directed her words towards the horizon, unable to find the courage to look at Waverly. “I shouldn’t have said those things. And I  _ definitely _ shouldn’t have run off.” 

“It’s okay. You’re…you’re not wrong…” Waverly trailed off and sighed. “This is all incredibly unfair. And it’s even less fair that I’m putting this burden on you.” 

Nicole turned abruptly, finally meeting Waverly’s eyes. 

“I’d have it either way,” she stated slowly. 

_ Did Waverly not understand that?  _ Nicole wondered, shaking her head and looking down at the ground. It didn’t matter whether she was here with Waverly, as her sand ran out, or was physically elsewhere; it was the same—a part of her would always be with Waverly, consumed by her, regardless. 

Nicole wrapped a blade of grass around her finger, weighing her words. She pulled it, tugging it free from the dirt, and continued to twist it around her finger before she continued. 

“Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?” 

She felt Waverly lean into her side, wrapping her arms around Nicole’s. Nicole turned, placing a kiss to Waverly’s forehead. 

“I need to know,” Nicole encouraged softly. 

“I know you hate when I say this, but you were  _ so  _ young when you first came here,” Waverly answered. “Your whole life was ahead of you. I wanted you to have a chance at all the things I didn’t get to have. And I sent you off, hoping you’d move on and find someone... _ whole _ . Not the parts of a person I could give you. After all that time that had passed,  _ how _ could I put this problem on you when you deserved, and still do  _ deserve _ , someone whole.” 

Waverly’s gaze fell toward the ground, and Nicole twisted, curling her pointer finger under Waverly’s chin to lift her eyes to Nicole’s. 

“I don’t know that I deserve it, but you’re  _ all _ I want.” 

“You’re  _ sure _ ?” 

Nicole nodded. “You’re…all I’ve ever wanted.” 

“Why now? What made you come back? After all this time.” 

“I’ve wanted to since the day I left,” Nicole admitted. “But I didn’t know if you’d want me back? I…I had kept things from you. I left. I didn’t know how to make it all… _ right _ ? So, I just kept…wandering. Further and further away, thinking… _ somewhere _ I’d figure it out. But I eventually realized there was nothing to figure out. Nowhere made more sense than here.” 

She shook her head at herself. “It shouldn’t have taken me so long. It’s just…the time I was here before, it was all so short, I couldn’t help but think maybe I…just dreamt it all up? But…I’m here. I’m  _ right _ where I want to be. Where I should’ve been all along.” 

“You’re  **_sure_ ** ?” Waverly repeated. 

Nicole leaned forward, kissing Waverly gently.

When she pulled back, she added with a smile, “Positive.” 

Waverly nodded slowly before biting her lip. “I love you.” 

Nicole’s smile grew, wide enough that her dimple was certainly on display. “I love you too.” 

\--

They hit the road, first stopping at Nicole’s alma mater, so Waverly could see the immense library and the other places where Nicole spent four years. They then traveled to the coast, going out of the way to stop at some places Waverly wanted to see, checking unsaid boxes off a list while they still had time. 

While they sat in the sand, watching the sun set over the water, Nicole pulled a box from her pocket. 

“Nicole…” 

Nicole licked her lips, the speech she’d only been able to rehearse while Waverly showered at the hotels they stopped at along the trip forgotten. “This isn’t because you’re…you know…” she trailed off, unable to say the word. She swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. “I know in my heart I’d want this, want  _ you _ , regardless of what the future holds.” 

Waverly’s eyes were watery when she nodded, shifting on their blanket to better face Nicole. She pried the box from Nicole’s fist and took her hands. 

“I have one condition.” 

“Yes,” Nicole replied without hesitation. “Whatever it is, yes.” 

Waverly shook her head. “I’ll take this, if you promise me that you will let yourself fall in love again.” 

Nicole opened her lips to speak, but Waverly shushed her with a finger to them. “No, hear me out first. Please?” 

Nicole nodded wordlessly, and Waverly continued, a pleading in her tone, “I don’t want you to shut yourself off from the world. That’s the  _ last _ thing I want. So…when the time and the right person comes along…just, please, give it a chance? Give  _ them _ a chance. Okay?” 

Nicole swallowed, unable to imagine such a scenario ever playing out. She closed her eyes, hoping to contain the tears she felt filling in them. Expelling a shaky breath, she nodded. 

“Okay,” Nicole breathed. 

Waverly gently wiped away the tears that were falling in spite of her best efforts. “Thank you. I love you.” 

“So, that’s a ‘yes?’” Nicole asked slowly. 

Waverly laughed. “ _ Yes _ . Of course it’s a yes!” 

\--

After a few weeks on the road they returned to the farm, and Nicole was all too aware of her numbered days with Waverly by her side. 

Their first night back, there was a chill in the air, but Nicole grabbed four blankets from the house and wrapped them around Waverly as they settled on the porch after dinner. 

It had been quiet, save for the wind rustling through the empty fields since the screen door slammed shut, and Waverly eased onto the step next to Nicole. 

“I wish I hadn’t waited so long to do that,” Waverly sighed, burrowing closer into Nicole’s side. 

“Way I see it, this way we got to do it together.” Nicole turned, kissing Waverly’s forehead. “Do you regret it? ...staying here all this time?” 

Waverly shrugged, non-committal. “I don’t regret staying…but I wish I hadn’t…let my desire to prove Champ’s family wrong, and my love for this place… _ hold _ me here though. I could’ve left…could’ve traveled and still come back.” Waverly shook her head. “But I wouldn’t have found you. If I left.” 

Silence fell between them, and Nicole slipped a hand underneath the blankets and, once it was warm, under Waverly's shirt, rubbing slow circles across Waverly’s back, soaking in every second they had left. 

\--

One morning, Nicole was buttoning her shirt when she heard Waverly shift in the bed. She turned, surprised to find open eyes looking back at her. 

“Hey, go back to sleep. I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Could you, do you…want to take the Jeep out today?” Waverly asked, rubbing at her eyes. 

“Yeah sure,” Nicole replied. “Around lunchtime?” 

Waverly smiled, settling back into the pillows. “That sounds nice. Can you take the top off of it?” 

“It’s a little cool for that, don’t you think?” 

“Wanna feel the wind in my hair,” Waverly mumbled, sleepily. 

A little confused, Nicole turned back to the bed, not surprised to find that Waverly had already drifted off to sleep, with a soft smile on her face. 

She leaned over the bed, placing a kiss to Waverly’s forehead. “Anything for you.” 

\--

Nicole waited for the warmest part of the day to park the Wrangler in front of the porch. She left it running while she got out—though the engine turned over easily, she worried about pushing her luck. 

Though Waverly was slow in her steps to exit the house, her excitement from just seeing her old Jeep was palpable. 

Her energy was contagious. Pushing off from her spot, leaning against the fender, Nicole hopped up the steps. 

Waverly squealed when she picked her up, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she placed a kiss on Nicole’s jaw as she carried her to the passenger seat. 

Once Waverly was settled in, Nicole hurried to the driver’s side. She was unable to stop looking at Waverly, watching as she ran her hand fondly along the dash, across the worn plastic. 

“Thank you for doing this.” Waverly smiled, as Nicole climbed in. 

“Of course.” Nicole leaned across the console for a kiss. “You ready?” 

Waverly nodded, and Nicole shifted into gear. She punched the gas pedal and sent them rocketing towards the fields. 

With Waverly egging her on, Nicole pushed the gas pedal lower. Her attention split between the path in front of them and the passenger seat. It was hard to keep her eyes off Waverly, whooping happily with her hair whipping around her in the breeze. 

Nicole navigated the Jeep toward the fenceline, planning to take a loop of the property, but when Waverly fell silent, she second-guessed herself. 

“Is this okay?” she called over the breeze and the engine noise. 

Waverly nodded, eyes alight with the enjoyment of the ride before motioning for Nicole’s hand. 

They continued on, albeit at a slower pace, but Nicole panicked when she felt Waverly’s hand slip from her’s. She turned to the passenger seat to see Waverly’s eyes closed, but the sight of her chest rising and falling eased Nicole’s racing heart. 

Though Waverly had fallen asleep, Nicole drove on as planned, finally coming to a stop in front of the house an hour later. She glanced at the passenger seat, smiling at Waverly’s still sleeping form. 

She killed the engine and got out, not noticing something was wrong until she looked through the windshield. 

Waverly’s lips were blue, and her chest still. 

Nicole raced around to the other side, pulling the door open with shaking hands.

“Waverly! Waverly, wake up!” 

\--

Nicole watched the small memorial from the railing of the porch, nodding to the few people she recognized from town as they passed through. 

There wasn’t a casket, since it was Waverly’s desire to be cremated, just a collage of pictures spread across some tables, decorated with some of Waverly’s favorite flowers. Nicole wasn't sure she would've wanted even this small bit of attention, but Wynonna told her the house would be torched in the night out of outrage if people didn't have a chance to pay their respects. 

Years ago, Nicole hadn’t been here long enough to know that Waverly was loved in town and to the few neighbors scattered around who weren’t related to Champ. But now, having seen first hand how it hurt them to see her suffering, Nicole sided with Wynonna. 

“How are you holdin’ up?” 

A gruff voice pulled Nicole’s attention from the fields. She blinked, surprised to find the sheriff talking to her from the other side of the railing. 

“Alright,” Nicole drawled with a shrug. 

Truth be told, she was surprised to still be here, living and breathing, with Waverly gone. 

Everything she knew about love and death told her that she shouldn’t be, or that she wouldn’t be much longer. And she squirmed guiltily with that knowledge. 

“That’s about as well one could hope for, given the circumstances,” Nedley replied, surveying her. “I hope you stick around here, kid.” 

Nicole nodded slowly, “I’ll be here, long as Wynonna wants help.” 

Nedley’s eyes narrowed. “Wynonna? She just told me this all yours.” 

Nicole looked across the driveway toward Wynonna, the visit with the lawyer all that time ago suddenly making sense. 

“Sure you’ve got a lot on your mind, but if anyone gives you any trouble, let me know,” Nedley added, before tipping his hat. 

“I will, thanks, sir.” 

Nedley walked off, and Nicole took a deep breath, not expecting it to be hers much longer. 

\--

Two weeks later though, Nicole was still alive, though maybe not well, when Wynonna and Dolls packed up the truck and headed back to their old life. 

“You’re sure?” Wynonna had asked, one last time. “We don’t have to go.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be alright,” Nicole reassured her. 

Wynonna didn’t look convinced, but she patted Nicole on the shoulder before backing toward the truck. “Call us? If you change your mind. And don’t waste away here, Haught…she wouldn’t want that.” 

Those words and Nicole’s promise to Waverly were at the forefront of Nicole’s mind when a neighbor came by a few weeks later, asking if she might consider selling any of the land. It took her a week of arguing back and forth with herself before she accepted his offer for all of it. 

She pointed her Bronco west and headed for the coast, Waverly’s ashes buckled into the passenger seat and the heart-carved porch railing in the back with her belongings. 

Nicole didn’t quite know where she was heading but wasn’t surprised when she found herself at the beach she’d brought Waverly to. 

The sun was low when she parked the truck. The ocean rippled out toward the horizon, fiery in the reflection of the sky. 

Nicole climbed out of the truck, the groan of the rusty hinges cutting through the thick salt air. She kicked off her boots, then pulled off her socks and tucked them inside her shoes, before reaching back inside for the urn. 

The door protested again when she carefully shut it and locked the door. As she pocketed the keys, Nicole looked at her reflection in the driver’s window, remembering the first time she saw her own appearance in that glass, so young and happy to have something of her own. 

She didn’t know then, on a used car lot in her old home town, that her Bronco would come to be so much more. It was the sole roof over her head for so many nights. Her sanctuary. One of only two things in this world that ever felt truly  _ hers _ . 

Nicole shifted the urn, securing it with her left arm and running her right hand along the chipped paint of the Bronco as she turned toward the ocean, with her eyes fixed on the horizon. 

She strode toward the surf, the rough sand under her toes shifting, softer and damp as she approached the shoreline. The small waves splashed at her ankles and her jeans sagged with the weight of the water as it seeped into the denim, the water lapping higher against her legs. 

Nicole walked out into the ocean until it was too deep. She shifted Waverly’s ashes more securely in her arm and swam. 

It was awkward and slow-moving, with her legs doing most of the work and her soaked clothes holding her back. They acted as resistance against every painful stroke, an anchor pulling her down. 

When she felt the breeze pick up, cool against the wet hair on the back of her neck, she stopped swimming, treading water and shivering against the chill in the air, the sun already half hidden beneath the horizon. 

The wind picked up again, and this time Nicole was ready for it. She let the breeze carry Waverly away, further out into the ocean. 

Tears fell from Nicole’s eyes, a small drop in the bucket of the ocean as they landed. When the last of the ashes were carried out of sight, Nicole shifted in the water to float on her back. Hugging the urn to her, she watched the sun slip beneath the horizon once more. 


End file.
